


Why Walk One Path When You Can Take All Three?

by Vixenofthemist



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Black Eagles route, Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, I have been planning this since before the game came out lmaoo, Sibling AU, Tags May Change, beres is a T.A so she gets involved with golden deer and blue lion, beres just has a crest, but beres and claude have some tension bc love that for them, but friendship is a big part of preskip, but it's a fix it fic, byleth has sothis, eventual crossover with fates but that's postskip, excited to finally post!, general fe violence, lots of friendship happens, mbyleth is older Fbyleth (beres) is younger, ships will be added whenever they naturally pop up, so after post skip it's gonna combine church wind and moon, so its aways off, switching POV, that is a plot point dw lmao, they dont know what to do, theyre two teenagers experiencing mutual attraction for the first time, this is gonna be a long one folks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixenofthemist/pseuds/Vixenofthemist
Summary: And that was the two Eisner kids at the beginning, not even aware of their last name or what they would grow to do or the people they’d meet- just two kids isolated and trying to live. Unknowing of the world outside of the one their dad built for them. Both brimming with potential yet untapped, so similar yet so different.Byleth, the eldest son, never had a heartbeat and his stoic expression never betrayed his feelings. People refer to him as a genius, a prodigy. Ashen.Beres the youngest daughter, feeling trapped by walls and the shadows of her family members, who expressed emotions but almost never knew why or what she was feeling. People call her Jeralt’s kid, Byleth’s sister. A demon.The most consistent in each other’s lives but the farthest apart.And that’s how they were and would have remained, if not for that fateful morning where time froze, and changed their paths forever.
Relationships: Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan, mbyleth is still up in the air for who he's going to get with, other ships will be added - Relationship
Comments: 24
Kudos: 70





	1. Prologue + Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm excited to finally post this! I have been working on this au since before the game came out and am glad to finally be publishing it! Hope you enjoy <3 
> 
> I will try and update every Wednesday or so bc consistency is smth I gotta work on this new year alkdjf

_[Imperial Year 1174]_

“Byleth wait up!”

A young girl called, the sudden disturbance jostling birds to take flight from the trees as her boots hit the wet forest floor. The smell of rain still lingered from the downpour of the morning, water droplets dripped from green leaves and fell, forming puddles in the mud with each step taken.

The storm of the last few days had prevented them from leaving their home as thunder rolled constantly, but today it had finally cleared up.

It wasn’t the most ideal for hunting, but it would have to do.

Byleth, almost 15 years, turned and looked at his sister as she caught up with him, a bow loosely in his hand and quiver on his back. He had a youthful roundness to his features that he’d lose in his later teens, but his eyes were as sharp and piercing as they’d ever be. He looked at everything- even to his own sister- with a detached air, the only recognition in his eyes.

“What are you doing Beres?” His voice was flat, holding no emotion either way and barely fluctuating enough to show he had asked a question. But it was the only voice Beres had ever heard from him, that seemingly uncaring tone.

“I want to hunt with you.” She said as firmly as an eleven year old could, crossing her arms resolutely. Her cheeks were even rounder than Byleth’s and sprinkled with freckles of youth that would fade with age and eyes wide and doe like- though to think she was fragile would be foolish. The bright indigo held the stubbornness of a wolf.

She didn’t have any weapons on her but the blue sheathed dagger that was always tied to her waist, and as far as he knew she had never picked up a bow in her life.

Byleth was shaking his head before she had finished talking.

“No, you’ll only get in the way.”

“Only because I’ve never been taught, and how am I supposed to learn if you don’t teach me?” She countered, and Byleth put his weight on one foot, holding the bow against his shoulder as he fully faced her.

“Dad can teach you.”

Beres shook her head.

“When? After a mission when he comes back exhausted, or during one when we don’t see him for weeks?” She gestured with one hand before tucking it back into the cross. “I don’t think he has time to teach me like he taught you, and I need to learn.”

Byleth frowned.

“I’m not saying you don’t need to, but it would be best to wait till dad has a chance.”

“Why? He taught you, why can’t you teach me?” She asked accusingly, arms falling to her side and stiffening, starting to feel that familiar well of annoyance at her brother start to burn.

“I’ve already taught you a lot, and I can’t show you how to do everything.” He said, voice as harsh as it could get, turning to continue walking into the woods. He looked at her over his shoulder. “Go back to the house, I’ll be back before dark.”

And then he walked through some bushes and into the forest, leaving Beres standing there.

She stomped her foot slightly, a word she had learned from a mercenary but wouldn’t dare say around their old caretaker leaving her lips as she turned away and started marching back towards the house.

She stopped halfway to the open door however, glancing to where Byleth had just gone; thinking. Turning over her options, before quietly following after him to watch and learn from afar.

And that was the two Eisner kids at the beginning, not even aware of their last name or what they would grow to do or the people they’d meet- just two kids isolated and trying to live. Unknowing of the world outside of the one their dad built for them. Both brimming with potential yet untapped, so similar yet so different.

Byleth, the eldest son, never had a heartbeat and his stoic expression never betrayed his feelings. People refer to him as a genius, a prodigy. Ashen.

Beres the youngest daughter, feeling trapped by walls and the shadows of her family members, who expressed emotions but almost never knew why or what she was feeling. People call her Jeralt’s kid, Byleth’s sister. A demon.

The most consistent in each other’s lives but the farthest apart.

And that’s how they were and would have remained, if not for that fateful morning where time froze, and changed their paths forever.

——

_[PART 1: Harp String Moon, Imperial year 1180]_

_Byleth and Jeralt have found themselves employed by Garreg Mach monastery as a teacher and knight respectively. After a successful win of the mock battle last month, the Black Eagles are starting to warm up to their new professor. But Byleth is having some difficulties easing into such a different life style, and his students aren’t making it any easier._

_-_

**_-5/8, Monday, After Classes. Byleth-_ **

“So what you’re saying Professor is I could, technically, climb the walls of the monastery?”

Byleth placed his elbow on the desk and put his fist in front of his mouth, giving Caspar a hard stare.

“I… suppose. If you’re willing the odd thousand feet.”

Caspar clenched his fist in front of him boldly, determination flashing through his eyes.

“Feet don’t scare me, no matter how many there are!”

Byleth blinked, feeling a little like he’d just been hit in the face with a hard pillow as he processed what exactly he’d just said.

Did. Did he think he had been talking about…?

“Goddess above- Caspar he didn’t mean actual feet, he means the height that you’ll fall if you did something as stupid as climb the monastery walls.“ Linhardt corrected from behind Caspar, head shaking in disbelief as it fell into his hand.

“Oh.” Caspar deflated slightly, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “W-well I’m still not scared of it!”

From the corner of his eye, Byleth saw Dorothea give Caspar a very judgmental side eye before continuing clearing the chalkboard, muttering under her breath something he couldn’t hear.

“Caspar, don’t climb the walls.” Byleth said firmly, and Caspar made a face.

“Yeah yeah okay. Guess I’ll just have to do the normal easy training instead of the one that will push me to my limit.”

“Oh it’ll push you alright.” Linhardt muttered, turning around and picking his book off his desk.

Ignoring him, Caspar turned away as well, trying to act pitiful to gain sympathy, but Byleth really didn’t have any to give for this situation.

“Go train, Caspar.” Byleth ordered, and Caspar begrudgingly followed Linhardt out of the classroom. Byleth stood up as well, giving Dorothea a nod before walking out with his things.

Even though both participants were out of sight, his mind was still on the conversation he had just had, barely blinking to adjust to the shift in light as he stepped briskly into the schoolyard and started towards his room, nodding to Mercedes’ wave.

These students baffled him, they really did. He had thought he had worked with some unique people before, but none had ever made him question everything quite like his students did- not even Beres. Time at the monastery wasn’t even two months, and he felt like he had answered more questions then he had in his entire life.

Just two days before, Bernadetta had asked what happens if you shoot an arrow and it goes out of sight. He had said it would probably hit someone, which she countered by saying it was in a forest with no one around. The next obvious answer, he had assumed, would be it hit a tree, but Bernadetta had just kept going, asking further and further to try and figure out this wild hypothetical scenario just where this arrow would land if by some bizarre chance it didn’t hit a tree/bush/animal.

But Caspar seemed to always take the cake with absolutely ridiculous questions, that, sometimes, made Byleth question everything he knew.

**How** \- in all of Fódlan- did he translate feet as the body part? The context was all there to indicate which feet they were talking about, and the fact that he didn’t catch that was… concerning.

Byleth slowed in his walk, pausing as he turned the corner towards the training hall to jot down in his planner to put in basic terms of measurement as part of Caspar’s individual school work. He couldn’t take the risk of something like that happening in a dangerous situation, he needed to know for _sure_ that Caspar would know what feet were being talked about on the small chance that it might come up in battle.

To his right, his attention was caught as he heard the familiar voice of his father coming from the stairwell leading up to the second floor of the reception hall, alongside the clattering sound of his heavy boots.

“Like I said, I’ll be back whenever I find her. I can’t give you a clearer answer than that because I don’t know where she is.”

Jeralt emerged from the stairs, his brow furrowed in annoyance, and Seteth soon followed, lips pursed.

“I understand that, and if I cared more I would ask why you don’t know where she is or why you don’t require the knights aid, but since I don’t, instead let me ask that you at least return before the month ends so that you may resume your duties for the Garland Moon.”

Jeralt made a noncommittal noise with his throat, facing towards the open double doors and spotting Byleth standing there.

“Ah, good. I was just about to come find you.” He beckoned him over, and Byleth closed his notebook and tucked it beneath his arm with all the other papers.

“Yes?” He asked, looking between the two of them as he approached.

“I’m heading off for a bit to look for Beres. I don’t like not having her with us, especially since she has no idea we are even here.” Byleth gave an affirmative nod, aware of Seteth watching him, trying to read him, though Byleth didn’t understand what he was hoping to see.

“I agree, it’d be best to have her here.”

“Hm. I’m not sure this place is best for anybody, but it’s a scenario we’re gonna have to deal with.” Jeralt grimaced, ignoring the narrowed eyes the assistant to the Archbishop gave him. “I have an idea of where she is so hopefully it won’t take to long. Plan on two- three weeks tops, and if I’m not back by then wait at least half a month before going to find her yourself.”

Byleth gave another nod.

“Good, I’ll be off then; take care of yourself and those students, and remember what I told you, alright?” Jeralt spoke pointedly, and Byleth knew he was talking about staying on his toes and trusting no one.

He did one last move of his head.

“Alright.”

“Good, see you in two weeks kid.”

And with that goodbye Jeralt walked off, leaving Seteth and Byleth in front of the stairs watching him go.

A disapproving noise came from Seteth, and Byleth looked over at him.

“He didn’t even give a full explanation to you.” Seteth muttered, giving Byleth a critical once over, arms folded tightly across his chest. “I don’t suppose you know anything more about all this?”

Truthfully, Byleth was only barely figuring out what they were talking about because Jeralt had mentioned his sister, and he didn’t know for sure that was what Seteth was asking about since he had walked in at the end of the conversation.

So he just shrugged.

Seteth gave an exasperated shake of his hair, placing his foot on the bottom step.

“You’re a suspicious family, but I will trust none of you will break the Archbishop’s faith.”

A short affirmation was his response, and not really satisfied but not expecting to be, Seteth walked up the stone stairs towards his office. Byleth’s eyes followed him briefly, before turning on his heels and resuming the walk back to his room.

He didn’t have an office yet, Seteth briefly mentioned once a few weeks ago that they’d see what they could do to get him one, but until then Byleth did all his work from the desk provided in his room.

Some loose stones crunched beneath his feet as he walked up them, hand reaching into one of the pockets lining his coat under his waist armor and pulling out the key to his room. It was a luxury that only he and a few noble students had been given to be able to lock your door- how Bernadetta managed was a mystery still.

As he unlocked and pushed it open, he felt something swoop past his head with a rush of air, a small feather drifting down and settling in his bangs and slightly blurring his vision.

For the first time in months, the closest thing to a smile peeked at the edge of Byleth’s lips as he removed the feather, looking up at the white owl making itself comfortable on its perch.

Byleth liked animals, had ever since he was a kid… or, at least he thinks he has. He seemed to especially like birds and cats, as he felt quite content every time he saw the monastery’s critters. (Even the dogs which, despite not being his favorite, still were deserving of head pats whenever he passed to let them know they were good.)

Closing the door with one hand while the other tucked the feather into a pocket, Byleth stepped forward, reaching up and giving the messenger owl a friendly scratch against the cheek. A content whoo was his response, and perhaps the smile grew slightly bigger…

“So, your father is going to retrieve Beres?” His hand withdrew quickly as he startled at the sudden voice of a young girl, ringing at first in his mind before shifting to be from beside his bed. Looking over, he saw that Sothis had manifested.

The green haired girl had started doing that a few days ago; nearly made him cut himself peeling an apple when she had popped in beside him to point out the worm wiggling out.

Sothis was a strange, strange, whatever she was.

She frowned, hands on her hips as she looked at him disapprovingly, hovering a couple inches off the ground.

“Don’t call me strange, you’re the strange one!” She replied to his thoughts, another one of those strange things she could do. “No one else can talk or see me, so you’re the oddity here!”

“Right, sorry.” Byleth apologized, placing paperwork on his desk and organizing them slightly as he slid into the chair, back now to her.

“Anyway- why did Beres leave this time?” Sothis asked, sitting on the bed. “Do you remember? I do not, I must have been sleeping.”

Byleth shook his head. He was slightly surprised she knew who Beres was, since all she did back then was appear in his dreams occasionally as a sleeping girl on a throne, and she hadn’t woken up till after Beres had already left.

“I wasn’t there. She was out with some mercenaries and ran when they weren’t looking.” Byleth said simply, unscrewing the inkwell and dipping his quill in. He had noticed a few details on Bernadetta’s schedule that he wanted to change while he was thinking about it. “That’s all I know.”

Sothis nodded, face thoughtful.

“I suppose that’s why I don’t recall. And it has been about… what? Two months since then?”

“It was a few days before the bandit attack.” Byleth recalled idly, remembering waking up to see the three she had been with packing their things a month ago. Sothis hummed thoughtfully.

“Such a long time to be separated from ones family… I hope she is found easily. I would like her to meet everyone here. It’d do her some good… I think.”

Byleth crossed out a line and rewrote beneath.

“She’ll be fine.”

Green eyes gazed at the back of his head, giving him a critical once over. Such a distant remark to be said about ones own sister… but, she reminded herself, that was just Byleth’s natural tone. She felt as if she knew better then anyone that he was relieved Jeralt was looking for her, and with just a little prodding she discovered he was choosing to not waste energy thinking about it since it was being taken care of, and with a small shrug, she decided that perhaps he was right.

“I suppose you have a point for once. She has the same training as you after all, so she can at least take care of herself long enough for Jeralt to find her… That was all I wanted to discuss.”

And with that her image started slowly fading, leaving only the faintest sparkling dust to settle where she had been and even that too winked out of existence in seconds.

Minutes pass until he was satisfied with the new plan for Bernadetta, and Byleth put down his quill and looked up at the owl, picking at it’s feathers.

_“Would it be good for her to meet the people here?”_

———

Back in the reception hall, a yellow cape shifted around the corner as Claude Von Riegan leaned against it, glancing past the bricks to where Byleth, Seteth, and Jeralt had just been.

“Well, that was an interesting little conversation.” He muttered, his interest more then piqued.

Honestly, he hadn’t **_meant_** to listen in. He had been heading this way to find Manuela in the infirmary to ask a question, but he stopped short when he heard Seteth’s voice. He didn’t particularly want to meet the assistant at that moment, since that morning- well, the Golden Deer had a very lively class since Manuela had a hangover and excused herself briefly to go get herbs, leaving the students to their own accord and suffice it to say. Chaos ensued.

And their classroom might be a complete mess.

Either way, Claude stopped before the corner to wait till Seteth left, and the two weren’t exactly being quiet as they called the professor over, so Claude heard everything without even trying.

And now that Byleth and Seteth had gone their separate ways, his mind raced to process what he heard.

His suspicion that this mysterious family would have more secrets seemed to be correct- this Beres hadn’t been mentioned once before to him nor had he overheard anything about her, but now she was coming to join them. Why? Who was she that captain Jeralt would go himself to find her?

With no true path towards an answer his thoughts just went wild trying to come up with a solution, but eventually he conceded that it was going nowhere.

Whoever this Beres was, he was eager to see whether she would bring more secrets for him to pick apart or be the key to unlocking them all.

Either way would work for him in the end.

“Claude, you aren’t eavesdropping are you?” Dimitri’s voice interrupted his musing, and looking forward he saw the kingdoms prince walking towards him from the opposite hallway leading to the Knights hall.

Claude turned, placing his hand on his chest and the other one on his hip, looking mock affronted.

“It is quite rude of you to suggest that _I_ would listen in on other peoples conversations, I would never! Happening to hear conversations happening in the open though? To that, I am not going to deny that I don’t exactly turn away my ear.”

Dimitri shook his head, blonde bangs swishing around his face in disapproval.

“Unbelievable Claude.”

“I actually think its quite believable, so guess we gotta agree to disagree.” Claude shrugged, hands emphasizing the movement. “Anyway, you’ll want to know that it seems like we’re going to be getting another new face around here pretty soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sounds like the professor and the old captain have another person they’re gonna bring onboard.”

“Another person?” Dimitri asked, placing his chin between thumb and knuckle of his pointer finger, elbow resting on his other arm. Despite still thinking it wrong to eavesdrop, he couldn’t help but feel intrigued. “I didn’t think there were any open spots left to be filled in the academy- perhaps it’s someone to join the knights.”

“Or a family member who will take shelter at the monastery, like Flayn.” The boys turned towards Edelgard as she joined them, hand on her hip. “We do not know enough about them to rule any possibility out.”

“I was leaning towards that as well, the way Seteth phrased things made it seem like a family member, or at least someone you would expect to already have with them. He somehow sounded more unimpressed then usual.” Claude agreed, putting his hands behind his head. “Whoever it is or what they do, I have a feeling we’ll be seeing them a lot.”

Edelgard agreed, though Dimitri seemed puzzled.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know, call it a hunch- but if this person is important enough that captain Jeralt needs to ignore his duties for a bit to bring them here then it’s a safe guess that they’ll be sticking around.”

“The captain is looking himself? Well, I suppose I don’t know enough to agree or disagree.”

“Yes, no point speculating when we have so little to go off of, it’d be a waste of energy. You may keep conversing the topic if you like, but I have work to be done, so excuse me.” Edelgard pushed past them both, heading out the door and towards the Black Eagles classroom.

“Yeesh, remind me to not ask her help in any mysteries, takes the fun right out of it.” Claude muttered. Turning to Dimitri, a sly grin grew on his face.

“Couldn’t help but notice you didn’t give her princessness a lecture about eavesdropping, is it more believable for you if she does it?”

Dimitri groaned, hand rising to his temple, shaking his head as he walked away.

“Unbelievable.”

Claude kept the amused grin as he also went on his way, walking up the same stairs that Seteth had.

He knew that there was no real point in speculating, just as Edelgard said, but it wouldn’t stop him from doing so.

Even if he didn’t know the answers yet, one thing was sure: This was going to be an interesting year.


	2. Chapter 2

_-5/15, In a Town near the Empire. Jeralt-_

Jeralt slowed the pace of his horse, eyeing the fairly empty streets around him carefully.  
It was a small and familiar town, but familiarity wasn’t enough for him to let his guard down.

Despite what he had told Rhea and Seteth, he _did_ know where Beres was, but it wasn’t either of their business to know that.

Of course he did, what kind of father would he be if he just let his teenage daughter runaway and not try and find her?

No, he had figured out where she was before they’d even gotten dragged to the monastery. This wasn’t the first time Beres had left, and Jeralt had an old contact he hired solely to keep him updated on her whereabouts.

Seteth had been noticeably judgmental, but the girl was nineteen for creations sake! If she wanted to go off and complete a mission all by herself, and then run around trying to figure how to stand on her own two feet Jeralt wasn’t going to stop her! Independency was good, and he had worked hard to establish that in his kids, but… just because he was going to let her do it didn’t mean he didn’t think there shouldn’t be some supervision.

Unfortunately, the sudden change of plans to stay at the monastery had been unexpected, and he’d missed the last letter which had went on to the kingdom, so he had been forced to wait longer than he would have liked for one of his men to get back with the information. (Though truthfully, a part of him had been hoping that there would’ve been a way out of the monastery before bringing Beres to it. That felt more like it was sealing their fate, bringing the whole family there again.)

Refusing to ponder long on those thoughts, Jeralt tipped his head in a polite nod to a young mother as she sat sewing on her porch with a baby basket beside her, and he vaguely recognized her face from one of their visits.

It was no shock to him really that Beres was here, she had a habit of being drawn back to old places that had been friendly to her.

He got to the location his informant had sent him to rather quickly after that, impatient to get all of this over with. He dismounted Daisy, his horse, and walked up termite invested stairs, keeping an eye on the street.

Worn knuckles hit against the knotted wood of an old oak door, and he stepped back to get a clear view of the nearby houses as he waited. He was in the more run down area of the small town, and to call the shack he was standing in front of a house would be kind. It was splintering, dirty, and the planks beneath his feet shook with the wind as well as the bugs chewing through.

He didn’t have to wait long for the door to creak open a crack, a skeptical eye peering out at him.

“Where is she?” Jeralt didn’t wait for the man to talk. He wasn’t here for idle chatter.

“Got in trouble last week. Has to work at the inn to pay for damages.” Came the nervous reply, and the door shut quickly soon after, not wanting any potential anger to be directed at him.

Jeralt didn’t have any however, he just let out an annoyed sigh as he walked back to his horse.

“Of course she did.”

——

The local inn was in the more wealthy part of town, and easy to find.

It had crisp, yellow letters painted on the hanging board, and matching yellow frames on the windows with plant boxes full of common wild flowers blooming underneath, all in an attempt to make it seem more friendly.

He had stayed there a few times in the past with the kids, but never for more than a night or two.

The place was stuffy and the beer was stale.

Something that was new, and most likely not permanent , was the front window covered by a nailed down blanket.

And Jeralt had a sneaking suspicion of the cause behind that blanket.

Jeralt gave Daisy a pat on her white neck as he dismounted, a casual signal for her to stay where she was until he got back. The spare monastery horse he had borrowed for Beres stepped lazily towards a planter hanging off the white railing of the porch, and sniffed at the flowers there.

The sound of heavy boots on the sturdy wooden porch thumped dully against the oak planks, and the double doors swung open with one hand.

It was right after noon so the few stragglers from lunch were still mingling about at their tables, talking in low voices and eyeing him as a stranger to their local hangout.

Jeralt ignored them.

He kept his sights on the bar, where a sallow looking man dressed smartly with overly combed hair was counting money, barely glancing up as Jeralt approached.

“Lunch is over I’m afraid, you’ll have to wait till dinner for food.” The man spoke with a nasal twang that most locals in this area spoke with, dropping some gold coins into a small stack.

“I’m not here for food, I’m here for my kid. And I was told I could find her here.”

The man froze at Jeralt’s words, slowly raising himself up to give Jeralt a quick once over.

“You don’t look like her dad.”

Internally, Jeralt rolled his eyes. This seemed to be everyone’s first response when told Jeralt was either of his kids father, and he had gotten tired of that stupidity fifteen years ago. Even Alois had noticed and used it as a cover to be surprised about Byleth, and even though Jeralt would give him credit for the acting, it didn’t change the fact that it was a well worn detail.

At least when the two of them were together people believed more easily that they took after their mother.

Jeralt gave the man an unamused stare.

“That’s none of your business, is she here or not.”

The man contemplated for a moment before answering, eyes flickering towards the kitchen.

“If your daughter has blue hair and a terrible temper who breaks windows, than yeah, she’s here.”

His suspicion correct, Jeralt glanced over his shoulder towards the blanket covered window, and from this side he could see that all the glass had been taken out.

He let out a heavy sigh.

“That is unfortunate, but I’m afraid we have someplace we need to be, so-“ reaching into his pocket, Jeralt took out his money pouch. “How much more does she have to pay off?”

It wasn’t missed by Jeralt that the man’s eyes got a greedy gleam to them, taking in the weight and size of the pouch to calculate just how much money this grizzled man had.

“Well… I’d say about three thousand, give or take a few hundred.”

Jeralt snorted, taking another glance towards the window.

“Oh please, with a frame that big it would only take a thousand to pay for the glass to be made, and maybe a hundred or two for shipping and installation.” Jeralt withdrew a bullion and placed it on the counter. “I’ll assume since she has been working here for a week, that she has earned enough to cover the hundred, so this should suffice.” There was no room for argument in Jeralt’s tone, but the innkeepers face still turned sour.

“I… suppose she has worked enough to cover the two hundred extra, but I think you are greatly underestimating the quality of the glass here- it is not just a thousands worth it is, like I said before, at least three.”

An amused stream of air came out of Jeralt’s noise as he looked at the other windows in the dining part of the inn. He could tell they were average quality without even having to get close. He remembered from when they had last stayed here a few years ago.

“If those are three thousands gold worth, then you need to change glassmakers.” Jeralt said, with no intention of budging.

This wasn’t the first time he was having to pay for window damages, and honestly it was one of the worst thing about having kids.

They see you do one thing once and have to do it themselves ten times more.

“I don’t think you understand.” The man said through clenched teeth, clearly affronted that Jeralt wasn’t falling for his usual tools, leaning forward over the bar as if to whisper though if anything he raised his voice. “She didn’t just break the window, she threw a patron- one of **my** patrons, through it. So, as you can see, there’s a little more cost here than just the window. My inn’s own reputation is at stake.”

With a scrape of metal across wood, he pushed the bullion back towards Jeralt, setting his hands flat against the counter afterwards as if he had just made an intimidating move.

With practiced movement, Jeralt didn’t break his gaze as he leaned down to the man’s level, the foot he had on him in height suddenly becoming _very_ visible to the man. Unlike the innkeeper, Jeralt’s voice stayed at a level yet intimidating tone as he looked him in the eyes.

“I don’t think **_you_** understand, me offering money isn’t a bargain to get her free, it’s me playing nice. She’s coming with me whether you take that money or not. And if I’m being honest, if my kid threw someone out a window, then they must have damn well deserved it. Perhaps you should reconsider your patrons and think what they must be doing to get such a violent punishment. That would probably do more for your inn than a couple extra coins in your pocket.”

He let those words sink in for a second, before pushing the money back towards him.

“Either take this or don’t, doesn’t matter to me.”

Jeralt held his ground as the man flickered between him, the gold, and the window, sweat dripping down his brow.

A heavy swallow later, and he reached out with fake confidence.

“Very well, I am not the type to not accept generous money when it is being offered.”

Jeralt gave the man a nod.

“Smart man.”

And there was only a hint of sarcasm.

He left the innkeeper as his attention was brought to the kitchen door swinging closed slowly. A little _to_ slowly, almost as if someone was moving it at a rate that they thought a door would inconspicuously close at.

By the time he reached the door and opened it, whoever had been behind it was gone, leaving only the kitchen staff busying about cleaning up from lunch and starting the preparations for dinner.

Some took notice of the tall, orange armored wearing man standing in their doorway, and a thin women who was clearly the head of house put a hand on her hip as she regarded him with beady eyes.

“Can I help you?” She asked in the same nasally twang as the innkeeper.

“Just looking for someone, I’ll be out of your hair in just a moment.” Jeralt replied, gazing around the room with a critical eye till he found what he was looking for. He strode to the left where the door to what he presumed was the pantry lay, and with tap of his finger he swung it open.

Revealing his perturbed daughter.

Beres looked about the same as when he saw her two months ago, which was good. Her dark blue hair was still cut short above her shoulders, and her face, arms, and legs seemed unscathed from injury. She was wearing a floury white apron over her black and gray mercenary clothes, and her arms were crossed as she scowled up at her father.

“You can hide better than this.” Jeralt spoke first, looking around at the small room that was the pantry with a disapproving frown. There was no way of escape. “If I was an enemy you’d be cornered.”

Her scowl deepened.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come after me,” She said, voice terse. “You don’t usually.”

“Well, unfortunately we’ve found ourselves in an unusual situation so some changes had to be made.” He stepped back, opening the door further so Beres could step out, which she did with arms still folded like a defiant schoolchild. “Come on, I’ll tell you on the road. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”

With a jerk of his head, Jeralt started out of the kitchen and Beres soon followed, slipping the apron off and discarding it onto the nearest surface before grabbing the small dusted duffel and short spear that was leaning next to the doorframe, quickening her steps to catch up with his longer strides.

“What’s going on?” Beres asked, squinting slightly against the sun as they stepped out onto the street. Daisy was still where he’d left her, and the spare he’d brought was now grazing just a few feet away. The flower box suspiciously missing a few bright bulbs.

“There will be plenty of time to fill you in on that, but first I want you tell me why the hell you threw a man out a window!” Jeralt demanded, swinging up onto his saddle.

Beres shifted weight from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at him. Jeralt almost critiqued her on her obvious tells, but held back. He knew she could do better, she just never took getting told off well.

“I had a good reason! I didn’t just, toss him because I felt like it.” Beres defended, pushing with both hands to her left in an upwards throwing motion, and Jeralt raised an eyebrow at her.

“I hope you did, because I just spent a good amount of money getting your ass out of there and if it was all because you couldn’t control your temper and the man spilt water on you, you’re going to wish you were still washing dishes.” With a jerk of his thumb towards the brown horse, Jeralt signaled to her to get moving.

She talked as she walked, her voice defendant.

“He was harassing all the waiting staff and refusing to listen when they said no, and he was especially messing with this one girl who was getting really distressed about it, so I told him to stop.”

“And when he didn’t?” Jeralt prodded, already knowing the answer, his horse moving along behind her.

“Take a guess.” She said dryly, the wind battering the window blanket loudly behind them as she took the dangling reigns from the ground and pulled herself onto the saddle. Ignoring the lip, Jeralt urged his horse ahead of her, guiding them down the Main Street.

“But you can’t just chuck people through glass in places like that!” Jeralt reprimanded, ignoring the look he got from an elderly couple on their porch as they passed. “Actions like that are more suitable for pubs and run-down inns, not fancy places like that where they’ll throw a fit over it!”

“But he was being an ass!” Beres argued.

“He was, and he should have been put in his place, but normal people aren’t used to getting used like rocks Beres, and when dealing with situations like that you have to think about your opponent and environment. Now the focus is on you and not him, because you went thirty steps out of their world and they don’t know how to deal with it- shit like that doesn’t happen there. If you’d just punched or slapped him, they’d probably be able to wrap their head around it being his fault.” Jeralt lectured as they moved, turning onto a street that would take them out of town. “Being adaptable in your fighting method is a good skill to have, especially when you never know what situation you’ll end up in.”

A silence followed his words as she digested them, thinking them over.

“I… suppose you have a point.” She replied, quieter then before.

“Of course I have a point, I always do.” Jeralt said tersely.

He caught the expression on Beres’ face as she moved to be closer to him, and just as she opened her mouth, he gave her one right back over his shoulder.

“No replies are needed to that.”

She quickly shut her mouth, the briefest of smirks pulling on the edge of her cheeks. She had been about to bring up all the times he most certainly did not have a point, such as all those expenses spent on drinking, but him shutting her down before she could was much more amusing to her.

And Jeralt did not need the teenage snark at the moment, he was already dealing with enough of that at the monastery.

They rode in silence for a few streets, Beres keeping a constant look around them while Jeralt was lost in thought. He had reminded himself of the fact that he still wasn’t sure how to approach the subject of their situation to Beres, even though he had spent a lot of the week getting here trying to figure just that.

His instinct was to just be blunt and get it over with quickly. They had a seven day long journey for her to process it all, so it wasn’t like he was just throwing her into the deep end of all this information and leaving her to drown. But, a voice sounding a lot like one of those parenting books given to him as a joke by his men, kept butting in and saying he should do it carefully and thoughtfully.

And it was a damn nagging voice.

They soon reached the edge of the village, and Beres interrupted his internal debate with a question, inadvertently solving the problem for him.

“Where’s Byleth?” She asked as they left buildings behind and plotted on dirt and forested road, looking about the trees as if she expected Byleth to step out from behind an oak. “Usually he comes out by now to tell me what I could have done better.”

Well, it wasn’t how Jeralt had been thinking of telling her, but it seemed that ever since having kids all he’s done is try to figure out how to say things delicately and failing anyway, so why stop now?

“That’s the main reason why I came to get you. A lot’s happened, and we aren’t mercenaries anymore kid. We got in a situation with the church of Seiros. Bunch of their rich brats got in trouble with bandits and came running to us for help, and the Knights of Seiros ended up showing their faces and pulled us into coming back to the monastery with them. I…” He paused as Beres moved beside him again, studying him with a face of confusion as she tried to figure out just where this was going. He kept his brown eyes furrowed at the road in front of him, thinking, before he turned slightly in his saddle to talk more directly to her. “I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I used to be the captain of the Knights of Seiros before you were born.”

The tension of confusion in her face melted into shock, and she stared with wide, blinking eyes.

“No, no you never have.” She said, shaking her head slightly. She was squinting at him now, as if trying to picture her dad, with his unkept facial hair and unruly braid and drinking problem, looking anything like the knights she had heard of in the occasional bed time story. It was a hard look to imagine.

“Did Byleth know?”

“He might of, but he was young so I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. But anyway,” He continued, getting back on track. “I was the captain, but I left around when you were born because I didn’t want to be anymore. The knights and church however didn’t… exactly want me to leave, so when they found me again they were quick to dump the position back on me. They also gave Byleth a teaching position at their officers academy, and they’ve offered you a spot as his teaching assistant.”

Beres looked at him so fast, he could hear her neck crick.

“Wait- _what?!”_ She demanded in disbelief, jerking on her reins on accident as her brain tried to process all that information. Her horse tossed it’s head a bit in annoyance, and she patted his neck while staring at Jeralt. “Explain more- I’m going to be what exactly? And for how long??”

“A teaching assistant. I’m not completely sure of the details, but they’ll have the brief for you when we get there. You’ll probably just have to help Byleth or one of the other professors with the student brats, polish some weapons, clean up a few scraps – nothing you’ve never done before.” Jeralt nudged them down the left path in a fork in the road, and Beres followed, hardly paying attention to anything else.

Maybe.” Beres eyed him unconvinced. “How long will we be there for?” She pressed again, and Jeralt pursed his lips.

At least a year.”

“ _A year?”_ Her voice dipped again in shock, though this time she managed to keep the horse paced. “Are you saying, that I will have to work and live with who knows how many rich spoiled brats… For a _year?_ We’ve never even _lived_ anywhere for that long before!”

“Unfortunately with Byleth committed as a professor we have to wait till this semester ends before we can try and leave, so until than we’re stuck there.” Jeralt said gravely, but than the nagging voice of the parenting book came back, and he quickly added. “Just look at it as a year long job, nothing more, nothing less.” There was a pause. “Plus some of the rich brats are your age. Maybe you’ll make friends.”

The lack of enthusiasm in his voice matched pretty well with the ‘thud’ her head made as she hit it against the pommel of her saddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s almost midnight but it’s still technically a Wednesday for me so it counts!! Also, the very last part wasn’t able to get beta read so please pardon any errors <3
> 
> Also also the word duffel has been around since the 16th century so yes I can use it in a fantasy world, no one can stop me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the break in updating, life hit >.< but the next chapter is already almost done so updating should continue on the Wednesday schedule!
> 
> A certain winking archer might be there so look forward to that 👀

_-Harpstring Moon, 5/20. Beres-_

Five days have passed since Jeralt found Beres and they started the journey to Garrag Mach monastery, and with no reason to stop or take a detour they traveled quickly, covering more ground than Jeralt had anticipated. He told her they were only a day away from Garrag Mach monastery now, and the closer they got the more an unfamiliar twisting in her gut plagued her.

She didn’t know what this was, even though she had felt it a few times before she had never been able to figure it out.

What ever it was, she didn’t like it. Hated it even.

Who would like an unsettling nausea in your gut that only got stronger and never seemed to truly go away till the problem did? It was uncomfortable and distracting, two things she had been drilled from an early age to adapt and avoid. And right now, it seemed like the monastery was the problem needing to be avoided…

Which had led to her deciding yesterday, that she wasn’t going to commit herself to stay at the monastery long.

She really didn’t see a reason why she had to? Unlike Byleth and Jeralt, she was only being allowed there because she was related to them, Jeralt had told her that much, and not for any of her own merits. And Beres couldn’t think of any benefits to stay stagnant in one place that long when it wasn’t even about her.

No one from the church had even met her, yet they were willing to give her a position like teaching assistant? It left a sour taste in her mouth from the implication that they were only giving her the position because of her family, even though she highly doubted it was anything important; pity jobs were never ones she took kindly.

So she’d hang around a few months, maybe four tops, see what this monastery life actually entailed and whether she could solve the gut feeling in any other way, then leave. She’d stay in contact with Jeralt of course and if they decided to get back to mercenary work once they left than maybe she’d join them, but until then she knew she could manage on her own.

And honestly, though curious, the monastery sounded like the last place she would want to be.

It was isolated in the heart of the Oghma mountains far from anywhere she was familiar, Jeralt describing it as surrounded by cliffs and high walls with only a few means of escape. And Beres… didn’t do well in isolated places, or with staying in one place for too long. On top of that, everyone would know Byleth before her and would prejudge her because of it, and again, that was something she greatly preferred to avoid.

AND it sounded filled with noble brats that she’d be expected to get along with, just a cacophony of things she did not want.

Noble kids, in her experience, were the worst. She had only met two about three years ago, and they had been insufferable pricks; One from the empire and one from the Alliance, and both so full of themselves it had made even Byleth annoyed. Her nose crinkled in disgust at the thought of being around a whole school of them.

(With luck, maybe Byleth chose the class with the least stuck up nobles, so the few months she was planning to be there she would not have to deal with them often.)

She had yet to tell Jeralt about her plan to not stay the full year, and she didn’t know if she would till it came closer to her leaving. He was one of the reasons she didn’t have an exact date set for when she would leave anyway....

He was hiding something.

She could tell in the way he dismissed questions, deflected topics for being too bothersome, and how pre chosen the few answers he gave felt. No matter how well it might have worked on others, there was no mistaking the tells Beres knew to look for from her dad; they were the ones she herself had learned over the years.

And it burned her up to feel like she was being left out of family secrets.

Again.

She had asked a lot of questions over the last few days, spacing them out as much as her curiosity would let her, and as it became more and more obvious to her that he was dodging around a secret, the stronger the desire to find out what it was outweighed the desire to leave. She was going to find out what he was hiding, even if it ended up making her stay the whole year.

Through her questions, she had worked out which ones he was most reluctant to answer, The two biggest being the Church of Seiros and his life as their captain. The last one was especially frustrating, since that was what she was most interested in knowing more about, but it did make sense. Beres had never known Jeralt to be open about anything, much less his life. (She had once asked him about his parents, and he just said they were dead. Nothing beyond that, not even names or when they died. She never bothered asking again.)

The closer they got to the monastery however – a place she had only heard about in passing through towns and villages - the more Beres was able to gain off of her dad.

His jaw clenched tighter in moments when there was no talking, working against itself as he was lost to thoughts that Beres knew were plans and thoughts about how to get out of whatever they were walking into. She had seen this expression often in her life, but especially when she had first joined in on the mercenary fun and he would bother himself with worst case scenario’s and how to avoid them (In moments like that, Byleth’s short and concise instructions on how she should could do well were more appreciated.)

But after a year of her routinely tagging along the look disappeared almost entirely, and she hadn’t seen him this in his own mind in years.

Even now as the familiar patched roofs of Remire village came into view, Beres could tell there was something more in the way Jeralt held himself.

He was always a cautious man, with eyes that never stopped observing the road or room around him, but there was an odd weight on his shoulders as he stopped and gazed around with almost disdain at the tree line, giving the village bathed in the setting sun a particularly sour look, as if it brought a bad taste to his mouth.

“Let’s just head straight to the house for the night. The sooner we can get there the earlier we can leave in the morning” He nudged Daisy forward at a brisk pace over the land bridge into the village, Remire being built along a natural curve of a small river that gave them a moat like protection on almost all sides. Beres followed after a lingering puzzled look over the village.

It was odd to see him this way, and it only made the nausea grow tighter.

“Did something happen here?” Beres finally asked after minutes of it building up, his paranoia getting to her as they passed the church in the center of the village. Not many people were out at this hour, most inside for supper, but she still cast her indigo eyes over her shoulder, trying to see just what her dad did in the long shadows of the evening sun. All she saw was a cattle pen besides someone’s house with a loan, hefty cow. “You’re acting kind of weird.”

A short grunt was her first reply, and she thought he might not answer her question like he hadn’t many of her others, but after a few solid minutes of just hoofbeats on hard soil, he spoke.

“This was where the royal brats found us and dragged us into this mess. I don’t like being back here so soon, almost feels like something just as bothersome will happen again.”

Beres’ attention moved from the lone cow lazily chewing on weeds to the back of his head, blinking a few times at his braid. Not the answer she had been expecting, not one bit. She had thought it would be he heard something through his connections that put him on edge, not… an unsettling feeling. That was unlike him.

Seeing an opportunity to be a little bit of a brat though, payback for all the questions he’d left unanswered, Beres responded slowly.

“So… it’s a superstition thing? Should we go in the door a certain way you think, to lessen the chance of anything happening?” Beres asked, completely serious.

Her question hung in the air for a moment, lingering, before Jeralt turned in his saddle, giving her an unamused glare. His entire body language conveying just how much he didn’t care for that at all.

He hated superstitions, thought they were some of the dumbest things in the world. Many a drunken rant had been dedicated to how throwing salt over your shoulder wouldn’t solve shit, and lighting a weed from your garden and waving it around was only going to make you and your house smell terrible, but he especially hated ones that made you unable to live your day to day life. A few years back they had a client who was completely convinced he had figured out the exact path through his house to get good luck, and when they came to discuss the not ghost problem they were hired for, they had been forced to walk around his house in extremely specific and weird ways. Beres knew that man was in Jeralt’s list of worst clients to work with, and so brought it up whenever she could.

Her face initially did not betray how funny she thought she was being, before Jeralt’s eyes narrowed at her, and she cracked a grin.

“Very funny. Haha.” Jeralt’s voice was dry as he looked back, facing forward again. “You should consider dropping mercenary work and becoming a comedian.”

“I will.” Beres said, still pleased with herself, before coughing lightly, clearing the laughter still in her throat so that she could get a little more actual serious. “But, really, this is where the knights found you? You didn’t mention that before.”

“It was a small detail, didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

“Why where you here? I thought you and Byleth’s next mission was going to be in the kingdom.” She asked, recalling where Jeralt had told her to find them after completing her mission.

“That was the plan, but there was an unexpected delay in rations so we had to stop here briefly for supplies. It was by complete chance we crossed paths with the church.”

Their house was in view now on the very outskirts, a shabby old two story, but it kept them warm and the villagers were kind enough to keep it free for them with little charge, so it worked in their favor. As they got closer, Beres looked around, trying to see if any remains from the fight that apparently happened here still remained.

Besides a few slashes cut deep in one or two trees, and an arrow lodged in the wood of the watch tower, there wasn’t any physical evidence of the actual fight still here. Which made sense, most villages cleaned up fights quickly to get the memory of it behind them as soon as possible.

“Where there any bodies?” Beres asked as Jeralt stopped and dismounted in one fluid motion. It didn’t take much for him to figure out what she was referring to.

“Not many, most of the bandits got smart and ran off once they realized they were outmatched. Byleth maybe killed one or two, I can’t remember.” Jeralt answered as he dug through one of his saddle bags. “His task this month is to take his class after the rest of them, now that I think about it.”

“Monthly tasks?” She asked as she dismounted herself, peering over her saddle at him. “They have those?”

“Course, gives the students controlled experience. Ah, here it is.” He produced the key, and  
tossed it at her, motioning over his shoulder with his thumb as she caught it.

“Start carrying everything in, I’ll take care of the horses.”

She gave a half-assed salute as she passed him the reins, and with her bag slung over her shoulder she walked and unlocked the door.

The sun was setting now, giving the lightless house an orange glow through the windows as Beres stepped in. The air had an unpleasant must to it from being absent for two months, so Beres paused to prop open a window to let some air in.

By the time Jeralt came in fifteen minutes later, horses secured with food and water in the small shelter beside the house, there was a small fire growing in the fireplace, and his belongings where tucked into a corner. Beres’ was behind her as she sat on the floor in front of the fire, her spear in her lap and whetstone in hand that she carefully ran along the spears edge.

“Does monastery money mean we can afford a housekeeper again?” She asked over her shoulder as he started placing his gear loudly onto the counter. “This place is covered in dust.”

Jeralt snorted.

“I don’t know what type of money you think they pay us, but it won’t be that much.”

She made a face.

“Than what are the benefits again?”

“I’ll tell you when I find out.”

He sat in an old chair beside the fire, an appreciative sigh leaving him to finally get off his feet. Beres paused in her sharpening, motioning with her head towards the ration bag.

“Do you want any?”

A nod and outstretched hand was her response, and with a small, annoyed sigh, she set down her things and got up to grab the leather bag.

He accepted it with a nod, and Beres went back to her spot and picked up the whetstone before sitting back down. She didn’t start sharpening again however, instead she got quiet, looking straight ahead into the fireplace.

“So… tomorrow we’ll be at the monastery?” She asked softly, catching Jeralt’s attention away from the stale bread and cheese.

“Yep,” He answered, leaning even further back with a creak of wood, and Beres did not miss how his jaw tightened and loosened. “If we keep our pace we should arrive by midday, and be regrouped with Byleth.”

Her head moved idly in a nod, bringing her knees up to rest her chin on her hands, the black worn material of her cotton leggings a comfortable barrier from her scrapped knees. Jeralt could see the thoughts turning in her head, the slight incline between her brows a familiar tick that Byleth and Beres both shared.

“And… then what?” She brought her knees tighter to her chest, eyes drinking in the dancing of the flames.

“I told you, they’ll tell you what you need to be doing when we get there, I don’t know the details.”

“No, no, I know that… I mean…” Words escaped her briefly as she tried to articulate what she meant, which was difficult. Jeralt had never been particularly eloquent with his words, and neither had Nana. “How do you even… live in a place like that? With so many people constantly around… What do you do all day when you don’t have a place to go?” Her thumb rubbed her wrist in tiny circles, the reflection of the fire in her pupils.

“Oh.” Jeralt scratched his beard. “That’s… Well. I can’t really answer that for you, you just gotta get up and do whatever there is to be done. Not much of a change from mercenary work I’d imagine, maybe more odd jobs than guarding villages or delivering packages but you’ll still be working for money and finishing jobs. You’ll adapt quickly, Byleth did faster then I expected if I’m being honest, but if he did it I’m sure you will to.” A pause. “But, like I told him don’t get too comfortable. Adapt so you can be as in control of a situation as you can but always stay on your toes no matter what.”

Beres swallowed, her lips tightening in a slight grimace. “Yeah, course.” She stood up quickly, grabbing her spear as she did. “I’m going to bed.”

Jeralt nodded, a weary eye on her.

“Good idea, get some sleep. We’ll be leaving before dawn.”

Beres only gave a little noise of acknowledgement as she started walking up the stairs to the sleeping rooms, and Jeralt looked back down at the bag in his lap.

“Hey,” He called out, and Beres’ foot was all he could see as it stopped. “Have you eaten yet?”

“I ate on the road.” She yelled back.

“Okay, good. Night.”

“Night.”

And with that Beres quickly walked through the hallways to her room.

Being one of the only girls in Jeralt’s mercenaries meant she usually got her own room, but that perk usually came with the downside of the room being small, and this one was no exception.

It was simple, with only a shabby desk and bed pushed near the window as furniture with a small oil lamp coated in dust on the desk. The roof angled in on one side to cut down the size even more. In some corners, Beres’ hair came inches away from touching the ceiling.

Her spear and dagger were dumped on the desk with a clatter, and the bag sunk a few inches into the bed as Beres opened it and dug for her nightgown. The village lanterns outside shone enough light in that she didn’t bother lighting the lamp, and her nightgown was a softer material than every other thing she owned so it wasn’t that hard to find.

Her old hairbrush was also easy to find in one of the outside pockets, and as she’s brushed it through the days knots she leaned against the windowsill to look out.

There were a few village people out and about now, finishing up last minute chores or walking home from the farmlands where they worked, and being close to one of the bridges in meant their safe house was on the way for anyone coming through this way. None of them caught her attention, so she looked towards the watchtower she had seen earlier. She was closer to it now, and from here she could better see the arrow lodged there, noticing now the golden feathers reflecting the light.

An odd choice for a bandit, so it must have belonged to one of the three nobles Jeralt had talked about.

And despite her apprehensions towards the monastery, Beres was interested in meeting the ones who had gotten them into this mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beres: *experiences common symptoms of social anxiety*  
> Beres, chuckling nervously: What the fuck


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all quick explanation for why it wasn't updated yesterday: Like I said on my twitter the chap was written but had to be beta'd and it took awhile for them to get back, but HERE IT IS and like promised, Claude's in this one ;3c
> 
> (Follow me on twitter btw (@VixenoftheFE) so you can get those chapter updates in case there is a delay ;) )

_-Harpstring Moon, 5/21-_

Just as he said they would, Jeralt and Beres left Remire village before dawn with no issue, passing by only a few early farmers checking on their herd, and by the time the sun fully rose, Beres could tell it had eased some of the tension from Jeralt’s shoulders.

Not all of it completely, but less than yesterday, and it wasn’t carrying over to Beres as much as it had the day before either.

About three hours into the journey with nothing but small talk here and there about sleep and the annoyance of morning dew, Jeralt broached the silence.

“We should be near the split paths towards Garrag Mach and Cormire, once we reach that it’ll be another three or four hours to get to the monastery. Depending mostly on if the mountain passes are busy.”

“I guess you took this way often when you were a knight?” Beres asked, and Jeralt nodded.

“I suppose I did. It’s the only secured route out of the mountain range into the empire, so whenever business called, this was the only safe way to go.”

They were going at a steady pace next to each other along the path, the Ogmha mountains unmissable in-front of them, expanding across their whole vision.

“Safe?” Beres questioned, curiosity piqued at the sound of danger.

“Yes. There are multiple ways out of the mountains, but only four have been named consistently safe for travel. One leading into Adrestia and Leicester, and two into the kingdom. We’ll be taking a natural pass that goes directly to the city and monastery.”

“And what about the other paths?”

“They are smaller and much more dangerous. Some take you past canyon drops on narrow paths, some are uneven and unstable, one even grows small till you have to cling onto the mountain to keep moving for a good hundred feet. There are one or two relatively safe routes into the Alliance and Empire, but flying beasts make nests nearby in the spring and summer, so best to just keep away.” Jeralt answered easily. “Garrag Mach has a thriving merchant market, so if a merchant can’t take their cart safely through it, it’s going to be unused.”

“Makes sense…” Beres shrugged, but since Jeralt seemed to be in an answering mood she continued with another question, not wanting to waste the opportunity. “So, with a thriving merchant economy does that mean Garrag Mach is a big city?”

They passed through a small stream, a tiny amount of water droplets reaching up and hitting her leggings.

“Not quite, most of the trade comes from the monastery itself, supplying goods and items for the knights and students. The city was built in preparation for the monastery, and it’s a fair size but most of its residents are people of the church or families of the knights.”

“Is that where we will-“

Beres started to ask, but Jeralt’s brow furrowed and he held up his hand, pulling on the reins to bring Daisy to an abrupt stop. Dirt and pebbles flew as Daisy braced herself, and Beres followed suit quickly, getting a little bit ahead of him due to how suddenly he stopped. Her horse anxiously shook it’s head, ears perked on high alert. Beres put a soothing hand on his neck, turning to look back at Jeralt with confusion on her brow.

His eyes narrowed in concentration as his head swept back and forth to take in their surroundings, listening intently.

“What?” Beres asked quietly as she to strained her ears, but she heard it before he could answer.

Distantly, there was the sound of panicked shouting and metal on steel.

“Is that… fighting?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed as she looked towards him, and with a stone expression Jeralt angled Daisy forward.

“Let’s not find out when it’s too late.”

They sped thru the trail at a gallop, trees racing past them in blurs, and when they reached the fork in the road he had been talking about, Jeralt didn’t hesitate for even a second to take the left path.

The sound of metal hitting wood and iron got louder the closer they got, and they came to an abrupt halt as they turned a bend and saw the source of the commotion.

A caravan, consisting of maybe four or five carts, three of which were covered, was surrounded by a group of bandits who must have ambushed them from the trees. Beres could see some merchants climbing into the little shelter the cloth covering on the carts provided, pushing small children in as fast as they could. The caravan didn’t seem completely defenseless, as evident by a blast of fire magic that shot out near the front, and from what Beres could see of the guards, one of them had bright pink hair.

“Fuck.” Jeralt cursed under his breath, unsheathing his spear from it’s holster on Daisy’s saddle. Turning, he pointed a finger at Beres. “Stay here unless I signal you for help. That’s an order.”

And without another word he sped off to join the fight, leaving Beres behind looking offended.

“What the fuck?” She whispered, though no one was close enough to hear her, before dismounting without hesitation. She guided the horse to a tree and tied the reins around a low hanging bough.

“I’ll be back to get you.” She told him, before darting into the forest.

It wasn’t hard to travel unnoticed through the trees with all the attention being on the battle, and Beres kept low, eyes moving all around with her short spear in hand, looking for a good spot to jump in.

There.

In the middle of two covered carts was a normal uncovered buggy, and a few yards away from it a boy- he couldn’t be much younger than Beres- with green hair and round glasses was staring numbly at a body a few feet away, covered in arrows. A bandit with an axe noticed his weakness, and had pivoted away from the girl with orange hair and a lance he had been fighting with one of his buddies, charging at the boy with a loud cry.

With well practiced movement Beres stood up, stepping out of the tree line as her spear sailed threw the air and sunk through the shoulder holding the axe high. The battle cry turned into shouts of pain as the axe slumped awkwardly in his grip, but it didn’t get any further than that as a split second after her javelin hit, a golden feathered arrow went through his throat. 

“WHOA, where did you come from?!”

Turning as the body fell, Beres saw standing on the open cart, one foot perched on the wooden railing and bow still held in position that had fired the arrow, a boy with curly brown hair and a golden cape looking at her with surprise. He had very noticeable green eyes, even from this distance, and he looked past her into the forest to see if anyone else was behind her.

“I was down the road.” Beres answered plainly with a head gesture the way she’d came, before running over and pulling her spear out of the shoulder, placing her foot on his head for counterbalance as she yanked.

Golden cape boy shrugged.

“Fair enough, help is help, even from mysterious spear throwing strangers. Speaking of help-” He jumped down to the dirt as Beres gave the final yank to get the spear free, and glancing towards him she saw him placing a hand on glasses boys shoulder, who was looking a little more present.

“You good Ignatz? It’s kind of a bad time to freeze up I won’t lie.”

“I’m- I’m fine, sorry, I don’t know-“

“Now’s not the time to worry about it, go get in the cart and shoot from there, it gives you a good vantage point.”

“R-Right.” Glasses, or Ignatz, nodded and quickly scrambled into the cart.

Beres’ instincts told her to duck, just in time to dodge a sword swinging past where her head had been.

Beres grimaced in her thoughts as Jeralts many, many lessons about never letting your guard down played in her mind as she spun and plunged the spear hard right above the female bandits boot into the knee, and a moment later a golden arrow thudded into her arm.

———

By the time the last remaining bandits decided this Caravan wasn’t worth it and fled, Beres had lost track of time, though it couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes. Everyone around her was breathing heavy as a few tense, but quiet, moments passed. Waiting to see if it was safe.

After minutes of nothing, a collective feeling of relief coursed through the caravan, and people started moving.

Talking started as merchants and their families emerged from the covered carriages, shakily checking the injured and starting to clear bodies out of the way so they could start moving as quickly as possible.

Ignatz sagged down into a seat, sitting with his forehead against his hands, knuckles white against his bow, breathing deeply. He had managed to hold it together well after that small slip up, and had gotten a few good shots in, but now that the battle was over he let himself get shaky again. To Beres’ right, a girl with blue hair fell to her knees, crawling to the bushes where she retched, and it occurred to Beres that these guards seemed new to this.

Well, some of them. Golden Cape seemed pretty fine, nose scrunching in disgust as he watched the girl, hand coming up to cover his own mouth.

“Eugh, you good Marianne? If you’re gonna throw up go a little more in please we don’t need that smell mixing with the blood. That’d be gross.”

Marianne didn’t respond, but she did go in further till only her feet remained, and Beres scrunched up her nose at the sounds.

“What a weird bunch of guards you guy’s are.” Beres said bluntly, looking from Marianne and sweeping across all the ones in sight as she crossed her arms, spear in the ground beside her. “Who assigns so much fresh blood to guard duty anyway?”

“Ouch, harsh critic.” Golden cape answered, turning to her with his bow over his shoulder and his hand on hip. “Truth be told we aren’t guards- well, not usually anyway. We’re from the officers academy at Garrag Mach, and guarding the caravan was supposed to be our “easy” mission this month.”

“Yeah, we weren’t supposed to fight at all.” Ignatz agreed, getting off the cart and joining Cape and Beres. Color was returning to his cheeks now and he looked more centered. “The bandits took us all by surprise.”

“The officer’s academy?” Beres started, eye’s widening as she looked around at all the uniforms. “Does that mean-“

“What’s Professor Manulea doing?” Ignatz interrupted, squinting towards the first carriage and turning, Beres saw a women in a green dress and fur shawl climbing onto the back so she was higher up.

“Guess that answers my question.” Beres muttered, looking towards this professor who was clearly Not Byleth as she clasped her hands around her mouth and starting speaking loudly. Unseen by her, Gold Cape boy’s eyes flickered toward her as she said that before settling again on the professor.

“GOLDEN DEER HEAD COUNT- DON’T MOVE BUT RAISE YOUR HAND PLEASE! IF YOU ARE UNABLE TO, PLEASE HAVE YOUR CLOSEST TEAMMATE LET ME KNOW.” At once hands raised into the air, some more enthusiastic than others, including golden cape boy and Ignatz (who was part of the enthusiastic crowd, raising his hand higher than he probably needed to). Marianne managed to pull herself onto her feet and shakily raise her hand as well.

The women’s mouth moved as she counted them with her index finger.

“Wait- WHERE’S LYSITHEA?!”

“I’m-“

“SHE’S WITH ME PROFESSOR MANUELA!” A loud voice shouted over the girl who had started talking. “WAIT-“ He paused, and presumably his hand disappeared, before seconds later a disgruntled looking young girl with white hair was lifted into view. “HERE SHE IS!”

"PERFECT, THANK YOU RAPHAEL!” The girl disappeared back down, and the women took a deep breath with a hand on her chest and face to the sky. “Thank the goddess they’re okay.” Straightening again, she once again projected her voice.

“ALRIGHT, ALL OF YOU COME TO THE FIRST CARRIAGE FOR ANY HEALING, AND TO REGROUP.” And with that she climbed down off the step.

Everyone in a uniform started shuffling to the front, and Beres stood unsure of what she should do as Golden Cape boy and Ignatz walked past her. Did she want to get back to the horse before Jeralt did, so he wouldn’t find out she had disobeyed?...

Did she care that much if he found out?

Before she could decide, Ignatz stopped and turned toward her.

“You should come to, that gash doesn’t look to good.” He said, gesturing to the cut she had gotten from a hand axe on her forearm.

Beres lifted it to get a closer look. It wasn’t dangerous and had broken the skin just deep enough to draw blood but not seriously damage any arteries or muscle. It would be fine in a week or so with some bandaging.

“It’s not that bad.” Beres shrugged, and Ignatz eyed it like he didn’t believe her, so she let it fall back to her side. “And that sounded like it was just for you guys.”

“She’s a healer as well as a professor, she’d be able to fix that like it’s nothing! And you really helped us in the fight, I’m sure she’d want to at least thank you.” Ignatz insisted, and with a glance towards Golden Cape who was stretching his arms with a slight wince but watching them, Beres shrugged again.

“Sure, why not. It’d save me some bandages.”

To Beres’ underbreath cursing however, Jeralt was also in the front with the lady, talking with her as she held a glowing hand over a slash to a tall blonde’s shoulder. Judging by his height, Beres reckoned this was Raphael.

“I’m very grateful you were in the vicinity captain Jeralt, my students are capable on the training ground but for their first real battle I had envisioned a more planned and expected fight, not a surprise attack from some cowardly ruffians.”

“They seemed to do well all the same, but for the sake of the merchants you were escorting I am also glad I was nearby. The more reinforcements the more likely they are to ditch and run, but this lot seemed to be a stubbornly determined bunch.”

He was keeping an eye on all the students as they gathered, and as Golden Goy and Ignatz approached, his gaze landed on Beres lingering in the back.

“Speaking of stubborn- I thought I said I would signal you if I needed help.” Jeralt said crossly to Beres, and surprised eyes turned towards her. Now that assumedly everyone was here, she could see that there were seven students in total, though Golden Boy was the only one with a cape and emblems.

She lifted her hand up in defense towards Ignatz and the other golden whatever’s.

“You didn’t need my help, but they did. An axe would’ve gone straight through his head if I had stayed put.”

“It’s true, Ignatz was out of it and all it would have taken was one good *shwingf* with an axe.” Golden boy agreed, making a hand chop motion to go along with the sound effect. “If this mystery spear throwing girl hadn’t jumped out when she did it would have been real bad for him.” Ignatz looked at the dirt, nudging a pebble over with his foot as he muttered his agreement.

“I saw people in trouble and took initiative.” Beres said, a little smugly that she was being backed up. “Isn’t that what you’ve taught me?”

Jeralt rolled his eyes, but a girl with short orange hair looked affronted by what Beres’ had just said.

“What do you mean taught, who are you anyway?”

“Apparently she’s from down the road.” Gold Cape said, in what Beres suspected to be on purpose unhelpfulness. “But I do think a name would be a little more informative than that.”

“Probably.” Beres agreed cryptically, leaning all her weight on one heel as she leaned back and stretched her arms behind her.

Jeralt sighed, shaking his head.

“This is Beres, my second kid.”

Everyone reacted in surprise, the orange haired girl’s mouth falling open.

“O-oh, I didn’t know you had _two_ kids captain Jeralt.” She said, and the girl with pink hair Beres saw before from a distance spoke up.

“Wow yeah I had no idea the professor had a sister! He must be super different from my brother then, because even people I’ve never met before have heard of me through him.”

“Most siblings aren’t like your brother Hilda.” Gold Cape said, and Lysithea, the girl who had gotten held up earlier, nodded.

“Yeah, and maybe the professor is the younger sibling, so he wouldn’t be the one to talk about it.”

Gold Cape looked at Beres, who was feeling a little disgruntled that they were all talking about her like she wasn’t there, and shook his head, gesturing at her with one hand while talking to Lysithea.

“Nah, she looks even closer to our age than the professor- or err, at least closer to the age of some of us.”

Lysithea scowled at him, and while she said some choice words at him, Beres noticed Marianne trying to talk, her voice so timid and quiet that not everyone could hear it over Lysithea and Gold Cape.

“Maybe we should… ask her?”

“Oooh good point Marianne.” Hilda said, bringing both of her hands together near her face. “We have been acting kind of rude.”

Hilda turned to Beres, putting on a friendly smile.

“Sorry about that, I’m Hilda Valentine Goneril!”

“Raphael Kirsten, nice to meet ya! Thanks for saving Ignatz!” The blond raised a hand and waved, grinning broadly.

“O-oh I guess I should say that I’m Ignatz! Though you probably figured that out already.”

“Leonie Pinelli, Captain Jeralt’s apprentice. You must of heard of me!” The orange haired girl said, and Beres looked her over, neither the name or Jeralt having an apprentice ringing a bell. Her attention was brought to perhaps the most noble looking noble she had ever seen. Purple all over and with the most awful haircut Beres had ever seen, and she had lived through Byleth’s mullet years. He reeked pretentiousness as he cleared his throat.

“And I am Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, heir to the noble house of-”

“Gloucester Yeah yeah it’s in the name. Spare her the whole spiel we don’t have all day.” Golden Cape interrupted, shaking his head. Ignoring Lorenz’s indignant spluttering, he stepped forward and bowed slightly, fist over his heart. “I’m Claude von Riegan, that’s Marianne and Lysithea,” He pointed to the two of them, and Marianne nodded, and Lysithea, who seemed a little upset that Claude had taken her introduction, interjected:

“Lysithea von Ordelia.”

“-and like I said before, we’re the Golden Deer house at the officers academy.” Claude finished the introductions, acting like Lysithea hadn’t said anything. “We’re more rowdy than some of the other houses but we’re much less trouble.”

“Hmm.” Professor Manuela hummed in disagreement, finishing healing Raphael’s arm and joining the conversation. “I don’t know about that, but I’m Professor Manuela Casagranda, your brother is one of my colleagues this year. Claude might be fibbing slightly, but they are all good students, if a little difficult to get to do work.” She gave Hilda a pointed look, and quickly Hilda changed topics.

“Soooo, Beres, are you the younger or the older sibling?” Hilda asked, returning to the topic that had started the whole parade of introductions.

“Why does it matter?” Beres said quickly (maybe a little more defensively than she had meant) and Hilda nodded sagely, turning to Claude.

“She’s the younger sibling for sure.”

Beres scowled, and Jeralt spoke up before more conversation could happen, cutting it quick.

“Enough of all this, there’s more important topics at hand. Beres, Professor Manuela says they’re heading back to the Monastery, so we’re going to join them, just in case more bandits show up. Go get your horse, and the rest of you that don’t need healing help the merchants.”

There was a murmured wave of okays at Jeralt’s commanding tone, and with a roll of her eyes (out of instinct more than actual indignation), Beres turned and started towards the brown horse in the distance, still bristling a little bit at the Golden Deer’s chatter. So what if she was the younger sibling? It didn’t change anything in regards to them, Byleth wasn’t even their professor they had no reason to be so damn nosy.

She made it to the second to last wagon, one of the uncovered carts, grumbling slightly under her breath, when quick footsteps caught up with her and a nervous “umm” caused her to turn.

Marianne stood a few steps away, nervously looking at cart wheel on her right as her hands fidgeted together by her chest.

“Yes?” Beres asked, facing her completely, hand on hip.

“I-I saw your arm and, and I can’t heal it as well as Professor Manuela but… I can heal it enough to close the wound. I-if you’d like.”

“Oh.” Beres blinked, lifting her forearm to look at the cut that honestly, she had gotten accustomed to the slight stinging and forgotten about it. “Sure, that’d be great, I was just going to bandage it, but this works.”

She took the few steps to get close enough for Marianne to reach her arm, holding it out for the shy girl, and she watched with interest as she lifted her hands and held it above the cut. A small blue-ish white magic circle flashed between Marianne’s palm and Beres’ arm, and light spread down from it onto the skin, tingling oddly as the magic sewed the skin back together. When Marianne removed her hand, only a pink line remained where the cut had been, and the stinging had stopped.

“There, I… hope that helps.” Marianne stepped back as Beres shook her arm slightly in discomfort, having never gotten heal’d enough to get used to the numb feeling that followed, and even though it only last for a few seconds it still wasn’t pleasant. “I’m truly sorry I wasn’t able to heal it completely for you.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. This is way more efficient than what I could have done.” She lowered her arm, giving Marianne a nod and a slight smile. “Thanks.”

Beres turned, but Marianne spoke up again, taking a step.

“UM, may I ask how… Jourdan is doing?”

Beres blinked at Marianne once again, but this time with confusion as she truly had no idea what she was talking about.

“Jourdan?” She asked, and Marianne nodded.

“Yes, the horse you’ve been traveling with… his name is Jourdan.”

“OH, I had no idea, my dad never told me.” Beres said, looking over her shoulder at the horse newly discovered to have a name. “Um, I think he’s doing okay? We’ve been taking care of him like we do any other horse and he seems pretty fine.”

“That’s good.” Marianne said, and the closest thing to a smile traced on her lips. “Daisy is well taken care of so Jourdan must have been as well. I’m glad.” Her face returned to its slightly sad frown, and it was like the smile had never been there. “Well um, I should go back and help now so…”

And with that she turned around quickly and walked back towards the others.

Beres continued once again, reaching Jourdan and giving him a pat on the nose.

“I knew the monastery would have some weird people.” She muttered, untying the reins. Jourdan just looked at her, not responding like Daisy usually did, and with a sigh, Beres guided him back.

It didn’t take her long, and as she walked past the wagons it was evident that the merchants had gotten back on their feet and were ready to head out. Everyone was in their carts now, save the drivers getting comfortable on their bench, and the Golden Deer and her father.

Manuela noticed her approaching first, and stepped slightly out of the circle they all formed to meet her.

“Oh good, you’re back quick. We were just discussing the position for you and your father, and we think it would be best if you split up and each rode alongside one of our wagons.”

“I’ll take the back, they lost a horse on one so it might fall behind a bit and if it does I’ll keep with it.” Jeralt informed Beres. “So you take the front.”

“Alright.” Beres nodded, stopping with Jourdan, and giving his nose another pet as it peered over her shoulder. “I can do that.”

“Good, everyone should get in their positions than so we can be ready to leave when they are.” Manuela said, and half the Golden Deer dispersed; Leonie, Raphael, Lorenz, and Ignatz following her as she walked towards the last cart, and Claude, Lysithea, Hilda, and Marianne remained. Claude turned to Beres, one hand on his hip and the other gesturing towards her in a friendly manner.

“Looks like you’ll be with us. Hope you don’t mind if we talk your ear off, we’re a chattery bunch.”

Beres eyed him, looking him up and down. Now that she was able to get a good look at him, she could see how even though his posture and voice were friendly, only his mouth was smiling. And his sharp green eyes were studying her as much as she was him.

“As long as you don’t expect me to respond, sure.” Beres said tightly, and Claude laughed, rocking his weight onto one heel and back down flat again.

“That sounds like a challenge to entice you into conversation- and I should warn you I play dirty.” He leaned his body to the side, and winked at her.

To say Beres was caught off guard by the wink would be an understatement; but only someone who was paying attention would notice. Her eyes widened a little and shoulders rose slightly, and maybe the lightest amount of flush made itself onto her cheeks, but it blended in with the red still there from the exertion of battle - and that was it. Before she could react beyond that, Jeralt stepped next to her.

“Before I forget, if you do arrive at the monastery before me stay in the marketplace till I get there. You can’t miss it it’s where you walk in.

“What?” Beres asked, looking at him a little confused, but than her brain, still a little off kilter from the wink, caught up. “Wait, why do I have to stay there? It’s a holy place or whatever, isn’t it? Doesn’t that usually mean it’s not dangerous?”

“That’s not the issue, there’s people you’ll need to talk to before you can just wander, and I have to take you to see those people. So just stay put, alright?”

“Alright.” Beres agreed. Maybe the marketplace would have some interesting items to pass the time.

“Good.” He returned the nod, and then his gaze swept over the students, who were still standing there. “Now, all of you do as Professor Manuela said and get into position, it’s your job to be ready with the clients your not hold them back.”

“Right away captain.” Claude said, giving him a salute, and Jeralt narrowed his eyes at him before climbing onto Daisy and riding off to the end, joining Manuela and the rest of the class.

Beres mounted Jourdan as the Golden Deer climbed into the cart beside her, all of them fidgeting around to get comfortable for the journey ahead, and soon there was a call from the front, and the caravan got back on its way to Garrag Mach.


	5. Chapter 5

_-Harpstring Moon, 5/21-_

“So,” Claude leaned an elbow over the right side of the cart about twenty minutes into the ride, fist propped on his hip. “Beres, huh? You’re coming to the monastery, so does that mean you will be staying there, or is it just a brief family check in before going your separate ways?”

Beres shrugged stiffly, trotting steadily a couple feet away from the cart on Jourdan’s back. As much as Claude had seen it as a challenge to bring Beres into conversation, she had seen it as one to _not_. And he might play dirty, but she was stubborn.

“I’ll take that as you’ll be staying.” Claude said conversationally. “So what will you be doing at the monastery, will you join the knights with your dad?”

“I could totally believe that, you seem strong enough to be a knight!” Hilda chimed in across the cart, a pouch filled with pretty beads and gems on her lap as she dug around in it for something. “Though I don’t know what to expect at this point since I thought for sure the professor would join the knights, but they gave him the teaching position instead.”

“Yeah, but there’s not exactly anymore openings in the academy for her to fill.” Lysithea reasoned, speaking up down the bench from Claude, turning so she could face both him and Hilda as she closed the heavy tome she’d been reading. Hilda hmm’d deeply, consenting that she had a point as she withdrew the halfway braided beaded bracelet she had been looking for.

“That is true. Not a lot of jobs there besides teaching, huh?”

Beres clenched her jaw slightly, eyes steady in front of her as the urge to gloat information that she knew and they didn’t was very strong, but she held fast. They would find out eventually anyway, no point in her having to be the one to say it. And besides, Byleth didn’t teach their class, so her being a teaching assistant wouldn’t affect them at all. Probably.

“That isn’t necessarily true.” Claude shook his head. “The professor took the last opening that _we_ know of, maybe they’ve been looking for a position this whole time and just haven’t told us. I’d imagine there’d be more than just three positions, and I highly doubt sword instructor was only made to accommodate Jeritza.”

“I… suppose. Instructors are a thing, and so far we do only have Jeritza, which doesn’t help a good portion of students.” Lysithea agreed thoughtfully.

Claude’s attention switched from Lysithea to Beres, with a friendly expression but again, behind it he was looking her over. Trying to pinpoint something.

She gave him a deep, unamused side eye. 

“Lance instructor perhaps? She wields one well enough to land the gig I’d imagine. I don’t know if either of you saw, but she hit a moving target like it was nothing! Meanwhile Leonie can’t seem to aim well with anything that’s not a bow, and Lorenz talks more than he practices so they could both do with the extra help.”

He was talking to Lysithea again, but out of the corner of his eye, he flickered a look in her direction. “That’s assuming she meant to hit where she did, of course.”

Beres’ indignation bristled, and she scowled, fully looking towards them.

“I did.” Beres said defensively and annoyed, buying into his purposeful jab. “It’s not that hard to do if you know what you’re doing.”

“So you do know what you’re doing?” Claude asked gleefully, a smug smile on his face. “Do you now enough to help others with it?”

Beres eyed the bow leaning next to him against the cart.

“Not you.” Her words dripped with snark, but he brushed it off with a shrug.

“Understandable, I am already an impeccable shot so not a lot of improvement is needed.” He lounged back comfortable into the rear of the cart as Lysithea groaned loudly, rolling her eyes.

“Save your arrogance for those who care for it Claude, Beres will have much better things to do as an instructor than have to deal with you anyway.”

“Her loss as an instructor than.”

Beres frowned.

“First of all, I’m not going to be an instructor. It’d be absolute hell having to _train_ students and I have no desire to torture myself for a year.” She leaned back in her saddle, palm resting on the saddle’s ridge, other hand still holding the reins as Jourdan moved steadily forward. “Second, I have no interest in being a knight, whatever that even means. Long term contracts are **_not_** my thing.” They hadn’t been Jeralt’s thing either. Only Byleth seemed fine with taking contracts requiring longer commitment, which lead to at least two times where Byleth was gone for a month or two by himself and some men. Which was always new for Byleth, since he usually just followed Jeralt’s lead.

“Interesting… so you’ll only be staying a short while, than?” Claude asked, chin in his hand and elbow still on the carts side. His head tilted to the side, and the braid (that had taken Beres awhile to register it’s existence, but she was going to blame that fully on it being an unimportant detail in the midst of battle) swung a little in front of his face.

Beres shrugged, hair tossing a bit into her face as she sat straight again.

Inwardly she was cursing a little bit, realizing she had lost whatever challenge had been between the two of them. No wonder he had seemed so smug.

Damn it.

“Maybe she’ll be a student!” Hilda ooh’d, looking towards Beres with a sparkle in her eye as if she could see it. “You’d look so cute in the uniform!”

That caught Beres off guard almost as much as the wink had, and she blanched. A little loss for words as her eyebrows came together.

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” Beres said, the s’ a little higher than the other words as she took in the three variants of the girl uniforms in front of her. Was that what was considered cute? They weren’t bad, she supposed just… a little restricting.

Seeing her face, and assuming it was because it was taken as an insult to what Beres was wearing, not Beres judging what they were, Hilda quickly continued. Scooting forward in her seat and putting the unfinished bracelet next to her.

“Not that your current clothes are bad of course- the all black mercenary look is very nice, _love_ the leggings under shorts look and the pink hints are a nice touch- but you for sure have the look to pull off the jacket and skirt! Don’t you guys agree?”

Claude shrugged, a lot less interested in this line of conversation and mind working to try and figure out how to get it back on track, and Lysithea rolled her eyes. Marianne stuttered out something that could be taken as “I suppose so”. Beres shifted, her face resting in the default frown she always landed on when she didn’t know how to react.

“I don’t think I’ll be-“ She started, but Hilda plowed on, her fashion vision blocking out everything else.

“Oh shut up all of you, you’ll agree with me when you see it. Black looks great on you, and you totally have the legs for a skirt and tights, though maybe the gold would clash with the pink we would want to keep in there so maybe a skirt without the jacket… And, maybe, we could do something with your hair, it seems like it falls into your face…” She was squinting at Beres, also looking close but unlike when Claude did, Beres didn’t feel like she was looking for anything besides trying to picture whatever outfit she was thinking. Unconsciously, Beres reached up and pushed her hair out of her face. It wasn’t that bad, was it?

“A bow maybe? OOH or a headband!” Hilda clapped her hands together. “With your short hair it would look so cute pushed back a little. And it would show off earrings! Do you have your ears pierced?”

“I don’t…” Beres answered slowly, pushing her hair behind her left ear, showing no stud. “Not exactly a lot of opportunities to get it done, unless it’s by a drunk women at an inn with a rusted needle.”

“That’s a shame, I don’t either but I really want to. I’m thinking of trying to get mine pierced while at the academy, so my dad and brother won’t know. I don’t know how yet though, but if I do figure it out maybe we can get them done together!”

Beres seriously doubted she would be staying long enough for that to be done, or that the offer would still stand once Hilda got to know her more, but… fuck it, why not.

“Sure, why not.” Beres agreed with a blasé shrug. “If it happens I’m down.”

“Great!” Hilda turned to Marianne. “You can join us too Marianne – it’ll be fun!”

“Doesn’t, doesn’t it hurt?” Marianne asked timidly, and Hilda shook her head.

“My brother said it didn’t when he got his done. Though… he has gotten hurt a lot in his life, his pain tolerance is probably a lot higher than mine.”

“I’ve seen a few people get their ears pierced,” Beres said, recalling all the drunk mercs she’d seen laying down ontop of bar tables with Eva, the piercer, ominously holding the needle to a flame above them. “and some people reacted to the stabbing, and some didn’t. Dad always said that’s not the part that you have to worry about though, it’s the infections you could get afterwards. One guy’s ear turned completely red, and when he took the earring off the hole was green.”

“Ewww.” Hilda scrunched up her nose, and judging by the look on Marianne’s face she didn’t like it either. “I’ve never heard of that before. Okay, when we get ours pierced we have to make sure it’s a clean needle I do NOT want that.”

“And take care of it afterwards, if you don’t that’s what’ll cause the infections.” Claude interjected, shaking his head. “It won’t matter how clean the needle is if you let stuff just sit there. Anyway-”

“I totally forgot you had an earring Claude!” Hilda interrupted his attempt to steer back to a more interesting topic, gesturing to his left ear, which Beres couldn’t see. “Wow, four girls and the guy is the one with the earring.”

That was an odd thing to say. A lot of the men Beres had worked with had earrings, more often than the women, so it wasn’t that odd for commoners. Must be a noble thing. “Do noble men not commonly get piercings?”

“No they do, just usually girls are more likely to.”

“So Claude’s unlikely?”

“In every sense of the word.” He winked again, palms raised in a shrug as he leaned back against the cart. When his hands fell back down, they were over the sides of the wagon. “Anyway, you’re already a lot more talkative than the professor was on our walk to the monastery. He was practically a silent specter just watching us and answering when he needed to, but you’re actually participating in conversations.”

“Is it _that_ surprising? We’re not the same person.” Beres huffed.

“I mean you are siblings, it’s not that far-fetched to assume you’d be similar.” Claude defended, and Hilda tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“You know Claude, I’ve been meaning to ask, but are you an only child? Because you sometimes give off that feeling.” She asked, and when Claude turned to look at her, his face was mostly blocked by his braid.

“That’s a sudden thing to just ask out of the blue Hilda, especially since that’s much more of a get to know you question you should have asked months ago. I’m hurt you only just thought of it.”

“Excuse me for assuming you’d talk about it at some point – and also it’s not totally out of the blue, we are talking about siblings and family after all I’m just following the flow of conversation. Anyway, you totally don’t have siblings, right? Because some of the things you assume about family totally aligns with friends of mine who have none. Like, siblings aren’t always exactly the same. I mean look at me and Holst, he’s super strong and a fighter, while I am but a delicate flower with no fighting bone in me.” Hilda sighed placidly, placing the hand that Beres saw sink an axe deep into a shoulder on her chest.

“That’s a lot to assume that I’m an only child, maybe I’m just good at hiding it?”

“You’re either an only child, or there’s a big age gap between you and your sibling. That’s my guess at least.” Hilda shrugged. “If you don’t want to answer that’s fine, it’ll just keep the mystery around longer.”

Lysithea shifted in her seat the moment talk turned to siblings, catching Beres’ attention, a small frown forming on her face. Again, her angle blocked Beres from being able to see her face completely, but she caught the hint of something that rolled through Lysithea’s eyes before she faced forward, hair now blocking her from sight as she reopened the book and buried herself in it.

Curious, Beres slide her gaze over everyone else, but uncomfortable seemed to be Marianne’s default mood and Hilda was completely unbothered, but for a split second she caught Claude’s shoulders tensing, just a little, before he relaxed them again. And it was like nothing had happened.

That was the first movement of his that seemed like a natural, unprocessed reaction. Interesting.

“Maybe he’s the oldest, in my experience they expect the younger ones to be a lot more like them.” Beres offered, still watching Claude. There wasn’t another “natural” reaction to that, which she had expected. He didn’t seem like the guy who would slip up once on guard.

“I suppose that gives us a little insight into you and the professor’s relationship.” Claude hinted, in what Beres assumed was deflection.

“Maybe, but you’d be surprised at how many mercenaries have older siblings that think they should have chosen a more stable job. Or the other way around.” Beres said, matter of factly. Older siblings, in her opinion, were bossy.

“Yeesh how old are you again? You sure seem to have a lot of experience in mercenary work.”

“You would too if that’s the only work you know.” Beres answered simply. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of getting a full answer from her when he was clearly hiding things himself. He might have gotten her earlier, but she was starting to understand a little of how he worked his games, and it seemed like the most interesting pass time to play along with till she left.

“Probably true.” He said casually, but when he looked at her, Beres could see in his calculating eyes that he knew what she was doing.

\----

The caravan arrived at Garrag Mach later than Beres and Jeralt would have, a little after lunch time, but made it they did.

Conversation in the first uncovered wagon plowed on almost constantly during the whole trip, falling a little quiet during the middle portion before rising back up again.

Hilda and Claude were the main chatty bunch, with everyone else joining in occasionally. It had moved from interesting topics to mostly just gossip and academy talk, so Beres rarely joined in, but when she did it was to deflect a question and supply sarcastic comment. When she got tired of having to prepare to talk, she just sped up and got out of casual conversation range, and that was the end of it.

And that was where she was when she first saw Garrag Mach monastery.

It was… a lot bigger than she had thought it would. When Jeralt had said it was built on the mountain standing alone in the valley, she had assume he meant around the bottom and middle, not the literal top.

Around them on all sides were the rest of the Oghma mountains, some of them snow tipped from the last threads of winter still stubbornly clinging at high altitudes, but down here the temperature was as warm as a spring afternoon.

Beres could see the walls of Garrag Mach, the city, starting a little outward from the base of the mountain, surrounding the buildings that moved back towards the mountain where a good portion of the city lay on the incline, before buildings turned to stairs leading all the way to the monastery at the top. She couldn’t make out much detail of the actual monastery itself, besides the high spires and a bridge connecting to what seemed to be a very large church, and also what looked like a giant tree climbing one side.

Not what she expected one bit.

The path they took brought them into the valley at a higher elevation, meaning that she was looking down on the city of Garrag Mach and the monastery was slightly eye level, maybe a little higher.

“Whoa.” She breathed, stopping for a moment to just take it all in. It was… beautiful, but the beauty was dashed when she looked around at the valley’s walls and saw just how enclosed It really was.

And just like that, alongside the sounds of the Golden Deer chatting past her, the nausea was back.

\---

It took them maybe thirty minutes to arrive at the city gates, where they were stopped momentarily as guards authenticated the merchants and their goods. Jeralt and Manuela made their way to the front to talk with the head guard, the carriage with a damaged wheel having managed to keep pace.

Beres watched as much as she could from Jourdan’s back, keeping up an appearance of being bored while on high alert. All the guards wore white armor and she couldn’t see any faces, all of them talking through visors. Emblazoned somewhere on the armor, was an emblem that Beres had seen before on empire banners, but without the eagles and other fancy symbols. It was either the emblem of the church, or of the guards of this city.

They got let into the gates with a wave, and Jeralt led the caravan into the city, Hilda giving the guards a friendly wiggle of her fingers as they started moving.

It was a bustling city, the sounds of the horse hooves on the cobblestone streets mixed with the crowds of people walking down the roadside, carrying bags and crates. One lady with her hair pinned tight, held a baby in each arm and another slightly older trailed behind her, hand holding her skirt as he watched the caravan pass. Claude gave the kid a friendly wave, and the kid ducked shyly behind his mother, peaking at the two of them. Noticing him looking at her too, Beres gave the kid an awkward wave and smile, and he turned a light shade of pink as he returned the wave to them both.

“Aww, kids like you.” Claude said, smiling cheerfully as he watched the mom finish talking and guide the kid down the street. He was propped on both his arms, crossed casually. On the other side, Hilda was waving at a shopkeeper she seemed to know, and Marianne kept her eyes on her feet, hands tight together and she was shrinking as much as she could to not draw attention with Hilda being so friendly next to her.

Lysithea was trying her best to ignore everything but her book.

Beres gave a short laugh, shaking her head.

“I _highly_ doubt it. I’ve never been around a kid a day in my life. That was probably just a sweet kid.”

“That makes two of us, I’ve never even seen a newborn or any aged baby up close. As a kid I fully believed that you just appeared in life at 2 or 3 and went on from there.”

“Oh?” Beres asked, in a way that made Claude look at her. She was smiling slightly, and there was a hint of mischievousness there. “That’s good to know.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Why?”

She looked at him, still smiling.

“It answers the question of whether you’re an older sibling or not.”

“Ah, I see… Does it really, though? Who’s to say I’m not just a terrible older brother?” He challenged, and Beres shrugged, unconvinced.

“You could be, it does seem like something that would happen in noble houses, but I don’t think so. I think you’re just trying to lead away from the truth by posing other possibilities.” She spoke confidently, turning forward again. “You’re totally an only child. Another very noble thing to do if you ask me.”

“You assume I’m a noble? It wounds me that you think so low of me already and we just met.” He faked hurt, one hand uncrossing to lay wounded above his heart. Beres snorted lightly in disbelief.

“I’ve met a lot of Claude’s, but von Riegan?? Are you going to pretend that doesn’t sound like a nobles name? Not as much as Lorenz… whatever Glowchester did, but still. Most of your names sounded made up, and from my experience that’s all noble names are.”

Her experience was with only two noble families, but, Claude didn’t need to know that.

Claude laughed.

“True, most of them do come with a very incredulous ring to them. Like Valentine, who even names their kid that??”

On cue, Hilda whipped around.

“What?” She asked suspiciously, not having heard completely what Claude said, but glaring at him all the same.

“Nothing, we were just discussing noble names is all.” Claude said dismissively, and Hilda looked unconvinced. Luckily for Claude however, they arrived at that moment, and he quickly excused himself.

“Oh good, we’re here! I’d better go be a house leader and help Professor Manuela manage this so if you excuse me-”

And he jumped down over the side onto the street, and running to join Manuela, leaving Hilda squinting after him.

“He’s lucky I’m so tired.” She sighed, closing what Beres had discovered, was a pouch filled with her accessory beads, putting it back into her pocket. “Or else he’d be in real trouble.”

Beres raised an eyebrow.

“He isn’t going to be? He’s coming right back.”

Hilda paused, thinking it over, before shaking her head.

“Nah, too much trouble now. I’ll just keep it in my pocket till I need a favor from him and then pull it out on him and see if he’ll feel bad enough to do whatever I ask.”

Beres gave an appreciative chuckle, brushing through Jourdan’s hair with her fingers.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Hilda smiled sweetly.

“I’m constantly looking for stuff to use against him, so if you ever find anything feel free to tell me. It goes to a good cause.”

“And that is?” Beres asked suspiciously.

“The “Make sure Hilda Valentine Goneril’s hands stay pretty and soft” cause. You should consider contributing sometime.”


	6. Chapter 6

The monastery was even grander up close.

After losing sight of it as they ascended the stairs up the mountain, it appeared almost suddenly once they rounded a corner, the brick walls that had been around them (blocking Beres’ view of the valley, which she wasn’t sure if she was grateful for or not) turned into a large gateway with the iron gate raised, leading towards the biggest building Beres had ever seen.

The gaudy noble houses that had previously taken that spot compared in no way to the towering square building made of dusty white bricks in front of her now, and the marketplace immediately in front of it was certainly busy for being at the top of a mountain.

There was a set of stairs that led up to the building, and two giant wooden doors were set in a protruding doorway, wide enough that the cart the Golden Deer had ridden in could ride through without worry. They were open wide, giving Beres a good view of the arched entry hall they led to, draped in banners off of every arch with the same symbol the knights wore. Deeper inside there was another set of stairs – these a marbled white – going higher up and out of sight.

Despite it’s large size, the décor was more humble than what Beres had been expecting.

“I thought there would be more stained windows.” Beres muttered, only heard by Claude as the rest of the Golden Deer were busy hovering around Manuela asking if they could go eat/sleep/train.

If he was going to respond, Beres didn’t give him time to, separating herself from the group as Manuela silenced the chatter with a few authoritative claps, looking around at the humble stalls lining the fairly small square compared to what looked down on it.

There was the expected array of wares for a place mainly sold to knights – an armor and weapons seller, a place to hire help, and an item shop selling useful knickknacks like vulnerary’s and what looked like tea. There was also a blacksmiths shop right beside the entrance, but there was a scroll nailed on a wall saying their anvil was currently broken.

Her gaze was once more drawn to the building, and she barely registered Jeralt stepping beside her till he spoke.

“You alright kid?”

“Huh?” She replied blankly, taking a second to recognize what he had said. Her eyes stayed on the curious outlines on the ground level of the building, shaped as if they were supposed to be windows but filled in by brick so there was no way they could be. She turned her head slightly toward him, before it caught up. “Oh. Yeah I’m fine. Just… surprised is all.”

She looked around at it all again, high where spires stood and Pegasus riders patrolled, saying the first thing that came to her head.

“No offense dad, but you aren’t very good at describing things.”

“I do take offence to that, I’ll have you know I have been praised for my ability to prepare troops for what to expect on the battlefield.” Jeralt said, as mock offended as his gruff voice would let him.

Beres looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“How long ago was that? Maybe you lost it in your old age.”

Jeralt shook his head.

“More likely having to reach those outrageous demands of bedtime stories you used to make me do every night drained it from me. There is only so many ways I could describe a forest before it got boring.”

“Ugh, and they were awful to.” Beres scrunched up her nose. “If that was how you used to describe things to troops than it’s a miracle they learned anything at all.”

A fond smile pulled on the edge of Jeralt’s mouth as he ruffled her hair.

“Brat.”

The brief moment of levity faded as quickly as it appeared, and Beres ducked out of his grasp with a few choice curse words, hand going up to immediately run through her bangs through her hair, trying to flatten it back into place. Her cheeks were slightly pink, both from embarrassment of her dad doing something like that in public when she was 19, and from remembering a few things Hilda had said earlier about her hair.

Jeralt’s own mind was on what they had to go do.

“Come on, we should go meet Lady Rhea.”

And he lead the way up the stairs, giving a curt nod to the guard standing duty who saluted a little too enthusiastically as he walked past, into what Beres assumed was an entrance hall of some sort. Leaving the Golden Deer in the market where they were starting to disperse.

\------

He guided her through the entrance hall, passing two open doors on the left that seemed to go to an eating hall, and through a small courtyard blocked off by hedges into another room lined with tables.

Here, there were a lot more students dressed in the same clothes as the Golden Deer, mingling about with parchment and books. At one table, a girl with orange hair tied into two looping buns was writing furiously and talking just as fast, the freckled boy across from her watching in what appeared to be awe as she grabbed another page and started writing on it, his own sheet barely touched. Beside her, a women with dirty blonde hair was humming cheerfully as she periodically fed the orange haired girl cookies.

Further down there was a red head around Beres’ age surrounded by girls, and the table across from him a green haired boy was faceplanted in an open book, surrounded by piles of what appeared to be textbooks, snoring.

As they passed, freckle boy noticed them and got an excited sparkled in his eye at Jeralt, and he nudged the orange haired girl with a finger and whispered something, and she stopped writing with a cookie halfway in her mouth as she looked up.

She let out a muffled “OH”, and Beres could hear her talking as they kept moving, saying something about her, and the boy also let out a surprised “oh”.

Unlike Freckles, the red head noticed Beres _before_ Jeralt, and he got halfway up before he spotted Jeralt and wisely sat back down. But when she looked over at him, he winked flirtatiously and grinned.

She continued past him, blank faced and unamused.

Beres sincerely hoped there would be no more boys at the Monastery who winked. She had had quite enough of that for at least a week already.

They turned a corner and went up stone stairs, and taking a quick right put them in front of another set of double doors, and this is where Jeralt stopped.

“Is the Archbishop busy?” Jeralt asked one of the guards, and he nodded his head.

“She is in the middle of a meeting Captain, but she should be done soon. We’ll let her know as soon as we can that you’re back.”

“Very well, we will be waiting in my office.”

“That will not be necessary.” A proper voice and footsteps approached from behind, and turning Beres saw a man with green hair and blue robes closing a door to what seemed to be an office. “I will let her know immediately.”

Jeralt nodded as the man got closer.

“Appreciated Seteth.”

Seteth shook his head, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Not my decision, the Archbishop asked that she be alerted to your return at once. Though, I would not do it if her current meeting wasn’t something that could be rescheduled if need be.”

His sharp gaze shifted over to Beres, and on instinct she stiffened slightly, looking at him as critically at he was at her.

“I take it this is the daughter you went to retrieve?”

“It is.” Jeralt confirmed, and Seteth looked Beres up and down, frowning at her clothes.

“Hm, well. She is alive, something I had doubted, but I do hope that If she is to stay here that her clothes will be something more appropriate?”

Beres rolled her eyes and faced back toward the door in one smooth motion. There really wasn’t anything wrong with her clothes, picky adults were so over dramatic. So what if if her clothes were a little patchy and worn? And if her shirt was a little higher than most, she hadn’t had a chance to buy new ones in a few years, sue her.

“Are you going to go talk to Lady Rhea or not? Or does immediately mean something else for you religious types?” Jeralt’s already gruff voice was terse, and Seteth humph’d.

“Very well, if you excuse me-“

In front of Beres, the double doors swung open.

And there stood Byleth.

Looking the exact same as when Beres last saw him.

“Ah.” He said, in the closest he ever gets to surprise. “You made it.” He looked up and over at their father. “You both did, good.” 

“Yes, good indeed.” A women, dressed in a finely made white dress and blue cape, agreed, coming up from behind Byleth to stand slightly in front of him. Her movement was graceful, every action seemed thought out and purposeful, giving her a unique air of wisdom. Even though all she was doing was standing, her posture was relaxed but upright, and her green eyes held a lot of mystery to them as she took Jeralt and Beres in. She held the attention of everyone nearby, even with just the few words she’d spoken, and a quick glance around the room confirmed Beres’ suspicions that this was the women in charge. Also, a guess she took from the large gold headpiece resting atop her light green hair, adorned with lilies.

Whoever she was, her appearance made Beres’ stomach drop, eliciting a negative reaction from deep within that she frankly had no idea where it came from.

The lady spoke.

“I am thankful to the Goddess you both made it back to us safely.” Her gaze shifted to Beres, and her smile grew soft in a way that made the hair’s on Beres’ neck stand on end. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Beres. I am Lady Rhea, Archbishop of the Church of Seiros.”

Unsure of what to do, Beres looked out of the peripheral of her vision toward Jeralt.

He was clenching his jaw again, a small tell that not many would pick up on, and feeling her eyes on him, he met her gaze and gestured slightly with his head toward Lady Rhea. Silently telling her to get on with it.

Beres looked back.

“Um, thanks. I’d introduce myself but everyone seems to already know me which is… great.” She said, glancing at Seteth over her shoulder and than back at Rhea, smiling half heartedly. After a few seconds it fell closer to a grimace.

Lady Rhea deemed not to comment.

“Let us take this conversation inside, so we may further discuss your position and what will be expected of you while you reside in these halls.” With grace she gestured behind her, before her hand once again rested clasped in front of her.

Jeralt nodded, placing his hand on Beres’ back, though it was more of a supportive gesture than to urge her forward. (Though whether it was for her or him, Beres wasn’t sure.)

“Let’s go.”

They walked inside the pristine blueish white room, pillars supporting the high ceiling and tall statues of a maiden holding a staff looked down upon them as they entered on either side. Lady Rhea walked to the back of the room, in front of a large window drifting in sunlight of the afternoon, and Seteth placed himself beside her as she faced them.

Beres stopped a few feet away from them, hand resting on her dagger and thumb sliding down the ridges of gold on the black handle for comfort, eyeing everything.

This was decorated a lot more like what she had been expecting.

Jeralt took up position on her left, but to her surprise Byleth stood next to her, not at his usual place at Jeralt’s side, keeping a level expression forward. Beres cast him a questioning look, but he only nodded at her before looking at Lady Rhea as she began to speak.

“I do not know what Captain Jeralt has told you, but we would like to extend to you the position of teaching assistant within the Officer’s Academy here at Garrag Mach.”

“He told me that much, but… nothing else really.”

“Unsurprising.” Seteth said stiffly, and Beres gave him a look. “Let me fill you in on the details the job will entail. You will assist the professors in any task they give you, whether that be aid in lesson planning or on the battlefield, and you will fulfill it accordingly to the best of your ability. Traditionally, professors would have a teaching assistant each, but the practice fell behind a few hundred years ago, and as such we have decided that we will not be restarting the program entirely and you will be the only teaching assistant this year. That means all three professors may ask for your aid if they so choose, though we understand if you would prefer to only work with your brother. It will be your choice, but do be aware you will have to fulfill some duties each month as a basic requirement.”

“Sure. I can at least say I can do bare minimum each month no problem.” Beres shrugged.

“ _Hmph, such petulance!”_

A young girls voice spoke up from her right, high and bossy, but when Beres looked that way, there was no little girl in sight, only Byleth.

She looked around the room, and still saw no little girl, so she went back to paying attention to Seteth, shrugging it off as a voice carrying through a window or something.

“-exactly the response we were hoping for, but we shall take it nonetheless. You officially start tomorrow, joining the Professor’s class.“ He nodded towards Byleth, who returned the nod. “We have given him the details of what you should do, and asked the other professors to give you some time to adjust before also pulling you into their responsibilities.”

“I suppose I should say thank you for not throwing me completely into the river.”

Seteth sighed.

“We did not want to overwhelm you since you will be giving aid to all three of our classes if the professors so choose to ask of it, but we do expect you to do the most that you can with your position to help the students as they navigate through the year.” Lady Rhea said, and Seteth added on.

“Speaking of which, you seem like the type that needs to be informed that this duty does not come with the ability to dole out punishments to students, but we do expect you to uphold rules and bring troublemakers to someone who can.”

‘ _Great, I’m gonna be a snitch_.” Was what Beres was thinking, but outwardly she gave an affirmative.

“I can do that.”

“I would hope so, as that is the bare minimum.”

“Seteth.” Lady Rhea said, in a tone that Beres had heard many times in her life, mostly from Byleth.

“You said that you have a place for her to stay.” Jeralt interrupted. “I hope that hasn’t changed in the weeks since I’ve been gone.”

“We do indeed.” Seteth confirmed. “There is a room on the second floor of the dormitory that noble students deemed too small for their liking, and so it fell into unuse, but it is still furnished and functional as a room. She will be sleeping there.”

Small rooms next to nobles, two of her least favorite things together. How do they even divide the rooms between boys and girls? She could manage if she was next to boys because she had her whole life, but girls she had no idea how to handle that. What do girls even do when they have to go to sleep? Do they talk till they pass out? Will she be expected to, or will she be able to use her position to weasel out of it?

“I will show you where it is located once we are done here. In your room there are also options of the uniforms for you to choose, please have the one you wish to wear tomorrow so that we can supply you with a few more.”

“Uniforms?” Beres asked immediately, her mind hurtling back to the conversation on the cart. If this was somehow Hilda’s doing, Beres was going to be pissed.

“Yes, uniforms. In the past, teaching assistants usually were students chosen for this special position by their professors because of outstanding performance, and as such they were rewarded a unique set of clothes to signify them as such. Similar to how House leaders get to decide their own uniform. To follow that tradition you will have to wear one as well.”

“ _fuck.”_ Beres said quietly, glaring at the ground and cursing Hilda in her head, which reminded her of something.

“Um, there’s been a lot of talk of these three houses; so there’s the Golden Deer and what else?”

“You already know the Golden Deer?” Byleth asked, and Jeralt nodded.

“We met them on the road, you’ll hear the report from Manuela soon enough I’m sure, but their caravan got intercepted by bandits. We were nearby and helped with the problem and joined in escorting them back.”

“I see. That is unfortunate, their mission was supposed to be peaceful… but perhaps it is a good lesson to the students in the unpredictability of the world outside the church.” Lady Rhea spoke, eyes closing briefly, before she addressed Beres.

“The three houses of the Officers Academy are the Black Eagles, Blue Lions, and Golden Deer. I assume you have already met Professor Manuela, Professor Hanneman is in charge of the Blue Lions this year, and our very own Professor is guiding the Black Eagles.” She gracefully gestured toward Byleth with an open palm.

Byleth turned halfway toward Beres.

“I will properly introduce you to them tomorrow, but most likely you will meet some of them tonight. There are…” Byleth paused. “a few noticeable ones.”

“Ookay. Good to know.” Beres said, very unsure of what that meant.

“That is all we will discuss for now, Seteth please escort her to her room so she may settle in, and show her where the dining hall is so later in the evening she may know where to eat.”

Seteth half bowed.

“Of course, Archbishop. Follow me.”

Beres did, as did Byleth, but Lady Rhea stopped Jeralt as he moved.

“One moment more please, Jeralt. I have some matters I would like to discuss.”

“Of course.” He nodded, glancing back at his two kids. Beres threw up a quick wave, before following Seteth back down the stairs. Hearing the heavy doors close behind them.

Seteth turned left at the bottom of the stairs, the long room she and Jeralt had walked through on their right, and they went into another courtyard like area outside. There was a long rectangular shaped building with three, large and long doorways on the left, connected to the long room by a covered walkway. There were three sets of colorful banners on either side of a door, and there were even more students in this area, some sitting on the grass or benches while going through parchment with their classmates. Directly in front of them was a path that went toward a set of stairs going up, and a roundish building on the right. She couldn’t see where it went on the left though it was clearly open.

Byleth directed her attention toward the three doorways with a point.

“This is where classes are held at eight every morning. The banners show which class goes in what room.”

“Where do you teach then?” Beres asked, eyeing the gold, blue, and red banners, noticing a sever lack of black.

“In that one, with the red banner and black eagle.” He said, indicating with his head. Beres blanched.

“Why isn’t it a black banner? The other ones go along with the house name but that’s just confusing.” She asked.

“No idea.” Byleth admitted plainly, looking straight-ahead. “I haven’t gotten an answer yet.”

As they passed the school yard (as Beres decided to call it) they turned left at the stairs, and there was a set of stone buildings, each slightly lower than the other with stairs leading down and Beres had to assume these were the dorms.

As they reached the second building, Byleth stopped.

“I have things I need to attend to, I will talk to you later.” He said at Beres, and she nodded.

“Sure, see you later.”

He made his way to one of the doors, and as they walked away, she heard him knocking on a door.

“Bernadetta? You ate lunch, correct?” Followed by the most muffled fast talk Beres had ever heard.

Seteth and Beres continued on to the last dorm, across from a pond and dock, with a small house sized building with plants directly down the path. Here, Seteth stopped.

“This is the greenhouse and pond, and the dining hall is just over there.” He pointed, and Beres saw the dining hall she had seen while walking through the entrance hall, made of a light stone. It was up a bit, and even more stairs led up to it from the front of the pond. He faced the right.

“The bottom dorms are where the commoners mostly sleep, we try our best to keep things equal while they live here, but nobles do come with demands. Your brothers room is the first one we passed, and yours is this way.”

They walked up another set of stairs (so many fucking stairs, it was going to kill her calves) into the dorms.

It opened to a hallway, going about the length of the outside dorms, with three to four steps moving upward where the breaks in the building had been outside. There were a few students walking through the hallway, and Beres saw Lorenz exiting presumedly his room further down, but Seteth didn’t take her that way. Instead, he stopped almost as soon as they reached the top.

There was a single door there, smaller than the others.

“This is your room, I ask that you be mindful of your neighbors and take into consideration the time before doing anything that makes a ruckus that could disturb others. The walls are thick but not completely soundproof.” Seteth lectured as he opened the door, stepping to the side so she could enter.

It was a small room, but bigger than what she had been expecting, so she could deal with it for the time being.

It was simple, with a silver threaded rug on the floor next to the wood framed bed flush against the right wall, the bedsheets a matching silver. It was more rectangular than the other rooms she had gotten a glimpse into, and the entire back wall was a wooden shelf/dresser with vertical windows carved into the stonework, open to the outside.

On the opposite wall to the bed, there was a desk and chair, but there wasn’t much room in between, and if she were to pull the chair out, it would almost block the pathway completely. But most surprisingly, for a room that apparenty hadn’t been used in awhile, it wasn’t very dusty.

“We had the room cleaned and prepared for you.” Seteth said, as if reading her mind. “And now I will leave you to get settled, I have other business to attend to, good day.”

And with that Seteth left.

Beres closed the door, taking in her new room slowly as she walked in. Piled neatly on the bed, were black uniforms and skirts, and beneath them on the rug were a pair of black heeled boots.

A sigh left her as she dropped her duffel onto the bed, and sat down and kicked off her boots, stretching her legs and arms out.

A tiring day, and it wasn’t even over yet.

She picked up the boots first, examining them. They seemed… comfortable. Beres had never worn heels often, Jeralt had never thought to buy them for her and the one pair she did have were from Nana, and she had outgrew them years ago. But honestly, it was a look she had always secretly thought looked cool, and these seemed small enough to be stable to start with.

She put them on, standing up to test them out, and compared to balancing on a horse, they were pretty easy.

The few practice steps became more as she grabbed her duffel and went to the dresser, opening the bottom most drawer and putting away her nightgown and a few other essentials like her brush and some hair ribbons. She shoved the duffel still full of her other clothes under her bed, just in case she ever had to make a fast get away it was ready to go.

Standing up, her eyes fell on the pile of uniforms.

She supposed... she had nothing better to do than... go through them. 

With gritted teeth she sat down, and picked up the first coat gingerly, dreading to see what type of clothes she’d be forced to wear.

A knock sounded against the door, ringing through the tiny room,and Beres didn’t know if she was grateful it delayed the inevitable or angry at it.

(She was angry at it.)

“What?” Beres called, annoyed. Assuming Seteth had come back, but the girly voice that followed certainly did not belong to him.

“Oh my gosh Lorenz, you were right! Beres hey, it’s me, Hilda! Is this your room?”

Beres groaned, throwing her head back to stare at the ceiling, before swinging herself up.

“Yep, it is.” Beres said, opening the door just enough so she could stand in it. Lorenz and Hilda stood there, both with opposite expressions on their face. “Can I help you?” She asked tersely.

Lorenz nodded.

“Yes, I have a few questions. According to my information, this floor is only for those of noble birth or… suspected, and correct me if I’m wrong – but you are clearly a commoner. Why do you have a room here?”

“Oh come on, don’t be mean Lorenz! Where else was she supposed to sleep? As far as I know all the lower rooms were taken.” Hilda shook her head, before smiling. “Besides, this means that we’re neighbors! My room is right next door, and Beres seems like she’ll be much better company than Ingrid. That girl holds herself to wayyyy to tight of a schedule for me.”

“It matters not if she’ll be a “fun” neighbor or not. This floor is reserved for nobles, and I only wish to know the answer.”

Beres sighed.

“Well, first of all, I didn’t choose this room, the Archbishop told me this is where I’ll sleep and so this is where I am. Second, I’m not a student, those rules don’t apply to me.”

Lorenz’s frown deepened.

“If you are not a student, than why are you in our dorms?”

“Because, I’m officially now a teaching assistant for the Officers Academy, and they probably put me here so I can keep an eye on all of you.” She didn’t know that for sure, but Seteth and Rhea had both mentioned keeping students in line as the bare minimum of her responsibilities, so she might as well make it known that that’s what she would do. “I hope you don’t like sneaking out Lorenz cause I will catch you.”

Lorenz huffed in indignation.

“Preposterous! I, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester would never stoop so low as to go out past curfew!”

“Yeah yeah, but teaching assistant! Wow, I had no idea that was even a thing! So your like, going to help the professors teach?” Hilda asked, and Beres shrugged, leaning against the doorframe.

“Something like that. Not totally sure, I’ll find out tomorrow.”

“I have not heard of this position before, nor was I informed you were going to get it, and as the next leader of the Leicester Alliance I would have thought they would have informed me of such additions to the staff.” Lorenz said, confused. Hilda shook her head, talking to Beres.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s not the next sovereign Duke, Claude is, surprising as that may be. Lorenz is just in denial.”

“I think you are the ones in denial, why should we let someone such as him lead when others are more fitting? House Riegan has been declining for decades, and it is about time some fresh leadership took the seat. And who better to do so than I, the next Count of Gloucester?” Lorenz puffed out his chest proudly, eyes closed and hand against it as if what he had just said was incredibly profound.

Hilda’s shoulders rose and fell with her eyeroll.

“I’m sure Beres is finding this political talk very interesting, but let’s move on from it and get back to talking about teaching assistants, that’s much more interesting.”

Truthfully, Beres had found the political talk a little interesting. Claude had conveniently left out his position, and while she didn’t know a lot about any of the countries inner workings, she did at least know the sovereign duke was important.

And also, very much a noble family.

“I told you all I know.” Beres shrugged truthfully. “I will just be working with the Black Eagles for awhile, but whenever Professor Manuela wants my assistance I’m sure I’ll know more then and can get you more info.” Beres said, mostly trying to get them to leave. She had been talking a lot today, and she was ready for a break.

“Hm. Well, I will go ask Professor Manuela what she knows of this position and why I was not informed. Good day.” Lorenz politely bowed, and left.

“Ugh, sorry about him. He’s obsessed with his own perceived greatness.” Hilda apologized, sighing. “Still! I’m looking forward to being your neighbor, maybe we can have some late night gossip sometime? You know, I’ll share what I’ve heard and you share what you hear – it’ll be fun!”

“I can safely say I have never done anything like that, but sure. I’ll try it at least once.” Beres agreed, smile tight.

Hilda clapped her hands together excitedly, daintily tilting it in the opposite direction of her face.

“Great, I can’t wait! Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to go see what I have in headbands, because I know I have one that would look cute with the color scheme of those uniforms!” And she turned on her heels and went into her room, leaving Beres to close her door with another grimace.

She had been trying to hide those from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seteth is 100% the type to judge other peoples parenting, especially fathers with daughters.

**Author's Note:**

> Jeralt bein a grumpy dad next chap look forward to it lmao
> 
> Hit me up on twitter @VixenoftheFE :3c


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